Maggie of Manhattan
by Eduard Kassel
Summary: Time is like a river, but a river can fork. A small change in a fateful encounter sends Maggie Reed down a different fork in destiny. But one change can send far reaching ripples and the change in a single destiny will touch many lives. Taken in by urban legends and rejected by those who could be called her own kind, Maggie seeks a life to live in skies and shadows of Manhattan. AU
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Gargoyles. I think Disney does.

 _Betaed by:_ Zim'smostloyalservant and Trackula

* * *

Maggie of Manhattan

Chapter 1

 **Divergence**

The night was cold, and the wind promised it was going to get colder. She really wished she had invested in a heavier coat. Hmm, if she was going to wish, she might as well aim higher, she supposed. But all the same, a heavier coat would be nice, she insisted internally as the sounds of the city filled the air around her.

The sounds of the city never stopped; New York City was not home, after all. They only changed, and even then, from one street to the next the variety showed itself too. But that's what she had wanted, wasn't it? She had wanted to leave it all behind, go far and be a star.

It sounded silly now, even in her head. She watched as a woman with short blonde hair and glasses pulled her bundled up little boy close as Maggie passed them. Too close, that woman's expression said when her eyes briefly met Maggie's.

"Living the dream," Maggie said to no one, and frowned. Was she sounding hoarse? God, she couldn't get sick on top of everything else.

Everyone looked at her funny, or worse didn't look at her at all. Eyes sliding over her like she was invisible. Except one. An old man, thickly bundled in a fraying coat and faded red wool cap. He sat by a crosswalk with a sign and a pickle jar full of change. His eyes met hers and narrowed over a scraggly gray beard, a fingerless gloved hand sliding closer to the jar with its change and a single green dollar poking up through the pile.

Maggie kept waking until she felt his hostile gaze slide off her.

"Twenty-two hundred dollars," she muttered. She'd come to New York City with that and what was in her wallet and three parcels of personal possessions, including her parents' rings. And it was all gone now. The only things left were the clothes on her back.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She had not thought her dream was a guarantee or something, but she was willing to jump through the hoops. She had worked as a waitress after high school, while taking acting lessons whenever she could. Everyone told her she had talent, both in acting and song. Only her father had doubted her; to her face at least. Even after her mom had died, he had talked down dreams of Broadway. Insisted she stay where she was, take community theater or something but she needed a real job, proper savings, and hopefully a husband.

"Dreams are pretty things, Maggie, but if you try to build on those foundations you will just be casting rocks into the river." How many times had he said that?

It wasn't like he saved any money. When he died, seeing him properly buried had eaten up what little was left in the bank and he had rented his trailer, of course. He had only left her the rings and a photo album.

Hmm, she supposed the album was still hers but she had left it with her aunt back in Ohio. She had wanted to travel light and had seen the big book as something too cumbersome. Aunt Clarice had agreed, stating it was too precious to get left to rot somewhere or pawned off.

Her father, to his dying day, had advised against her Broadway dreams. She had honored his wishes, as long as he lived. It wasn't fair to expect the living to abandon their dreams for the sake of the dead. Auntie felt otherwise, and saw her leaving as soon as the dirt was patted down as some kind of betrayal.

It hadn't meant much. She had never gotten along with the old cook. Her father had thought her naïve; Clarice thought she was vain and stupid, reaching for little girl's dreams. But then Auntie seemed to see everyone but her father badly, so her opinion had hardly seemed to matter back then.

Maggie ducked into the alley, wanting to be away from people.

New York City — no one ever said how one turn could take you somewhere so far from where you had been. The alley was dark, shuttered windows high on either wall and the light clogged, starless sky seeming distant and closed. And garbage. The sight and smell no longer bothered her. It reminded her of when she would decide not to eat at a restaurant cause it looked too cheap.

"You're new, aren't ya?" a man called. Stopping, she turned and saw he was half-buried next to the dumpster under a pile of cloth and newspapers. There was even a shopping cart there, whose contents were covered with some kind of tarp.

"I don't have any money," she said reflexively.

The man, young not old she realized, howled in laughter. She winced and pulled her coat tighter.

"Yeah, you hit rock bottom so recently you're still half-thinking like you mean something to this city. Never been there myself, small favors I suppose. Like a man born blind can't miss colors. Am I right?" he snickered.

"Do you have something to say to me?" Maggie asked wearily.

"Why, you got appointments? But yeah, lady, I do. A bit of good news. There's a man poking around, rich guy. The kind who's got the money where he can walk around New York's crap walks and not even junkies think about so much as kicking scuff on his shoes. Anyway, he's looking for people for work. The healthy types, young and not been out here in circulation so long as to get spoiled. So, tainted goods am I. Also I hear he has enough fellas; looking to be progressive and lift some ladies out of the gutter now he is."

"I'm not a whore," she said.

"Ha! No you're not, with a face like that. And I doubt he's interested. Guys like that don't stick their stuff in dubious goods any more than people from up the chain eat from a hot dog stand. They can get better easier than you or me take a dump. Just tell him the Big Mouse pointed you his way," he said. He called the directions and description after her. She tried to ignore him.

She had blundered once, it wasn't like she would again.

 **X X X**

Her face had seen better days. She looked gaunt, and she had gone long enough without eating her stomach was no longer protesting. Being invisible wasn't such a problem when you didn't want to be seen. She left the trash can she had been checking — she wasn't a beggar yet. It was different when you found things, it was just being smart.

Being smart. Yes, she was not a beggar.

The cold she was finding harder to get used to than the hunger. Her usual spot for the night was near a trashcan fire, but those people… They weren't like her. She saw they way they moved, they way they looked at others and her at times.

It was good to be close, some degree of safety, but not too close. She wasn't one of them.

She could hear them though. She heard a lot now. You hear a lot when you weren't talking and had nowhere to be, she had realized.

They talked about the monsters. She had heard of the stories before coming to New York; she had followed everything New York. Her coworkers had accused her of being a Yankees fan in the making with how much she brought up the great city.

So she knew about the New York Gargoyles. The stories were different here in the alleys. Everyone seemed to have seen or known someone who had seen one. And everyone had a story of someone who disappeared one night, with only the sound of flapping wings, distant roaring, or claw marks scuffed on stone or pavement. And they weren't timid animals, either. All the stories agreed even armed thugs could be prey for them. Numbers meant little — a gargoyle, they claimed, could shrug off bullets and rip a grown man's arm off and beat him to death with it. They could track like dogs, hear heartbeats, and their glowing eyes saw you however deep the darkness you tried to hide in.

Thrilling and ridiculous, nothing more than the peers of Bigfoot or the Jersey Devil, or even the ghost stories across Ohio. Silly things really, showing just how eccentric and exciting her dream town was.

Trying to sleep under a newspaper in the dark of the alley, gargoyles weren't so silly anymore. She was believing the stories, and she had seriously considered yet again today. Grabbing a coffee cup from the trash and just begging, hoping for enough cents for a hot dog fresh from the cart. And a bottle of water?

"I'm not like these others," Maggie whispered to herself. Then she saw him.

He was lit up in the alley mouth, first behind the fire, a silhouette of a man in a hat and coat. The light was gone and the shadow was merely against the backdrop of street lights. But he was different. His walk was off, a slight limp, but even then, he held himself, not like 'them'.

He actually paused to tip his hat to the homeless around the fire. They gave glares and maybe a grunt before returning their attention to the fire in the can.

If she weren't tired, she would bristle at that. What if they scared him off?!

Her eyes were adjusted to the dark enough that she could make him out as he approached her. Clean-shaven, hair clearly barbered under the hat, and he smelled like soap with a slight hint of raspberries. And the cane punctuating each step.

"Doctor?" she asked, not getting to her feet. She could not scare him off.

"Yes?" he answered kindly. Though he probably could not see her well, he looked at her.

He. Looked. At her.

"I heard you were offering people work?" she asked. He smiled and gestured to the opposite alley mouth.

"Let's talk in a bit more privacy shall we?" he asked. Of course, a very reasonable request.

On the intersection, he could see her clearly, but his eyes had not lost that sparkle even in the shadow of the building. She would almost call them jolly eyes. He looked like a gentleman, like a costumed character from a play. But this was New York; here, the true elite could be found, not just people like the others in the alley.

Red, maybe reddish-brown hair, gone white at the temples, and a lined face that along with his posture made her think he was in his sixties, though with whatever injury hindered him she though he might just be in his fifties.

That bum had been right, this man radiated an assurance. It was like being near a fire, if the fire did not make you warm.

"I'm not like these others," she declared, using her free hand to indicate the trash fire. Her other hand clutched her jacket, wishing there was something more she could say to prove her words.

"Of course you're not. I can see that," he had a German accent. It was charming, even as the wind kicked up.

"I haven't been in New York long. This is just a temporary setback."

"As it happens, I need a temporary assistant. Easy work, and it pays well. Plus much nicer surroundings than these," he lifted his cane to take in the miserable back alleys.

"Well, what would I have to do?" she asked. He smiled and offered his hand.

 **X X X**

Maggie Reed, she was from Ohio. She remembered that. Huddled in the corner, it felt like she was stumbling through her own thoughts. But her stumbling was guided by holding onto that string and following it, slowly but surely.

Maggie Reed, yes, that was her, the simple affirmation let her get back on her feet in some way and keep going. Even though she was also sitting down.

No time to think, she needed to remember instead.

She remembered he, the doctor, had used a payphone to call a ride. It had arrived quickly. Not a cab, not a limo or a sedan or something. It had been a van. She thought it might have been white.

Her only thought on the ride had been how glorious the heating was. She had kept nodding off. There had been a loading dock when they had stopped and she had followed the doctor in.

That, she remembered, had been another world. Gone was the dark listlessness of the alleys and streets. Here everything was clean, people moved with purpose, uniformed men and woman, all well kept.

It made her unwashed scruffiness seem as gross a violation as walking in nude. Then the doctor's hand had patted her shoulder.

"No need to be like that. You are on the upswing, Miss Reed. For now, how about something to eat and a bed?" he suggested.

She didn't remember what kind of sandwich they gave her. It had taken all her control not to snarf it down. The water was also welcome. She had kept filling the glass until the pitcher they had left on the nightstand was empty. There was a compact bathroom attached to the small bedroom. It seemed like a half-bath they had forced a shower into.

Well, that was siren allure enough. Though her hair tangles refused to give out afterward, having eaten and showered she would accept that small defeat. She had not asked for a change of clothes, and she deliberately stepped around her ragged clothing on her way to the bed.

She had never slept naked that she recalled, but now she wondered if that was a mistake, drinking in the sensation of snuggling down into the blankets and mattress, her head against the pillow.

A knock on the door had woken her. No windows, no clock, no proof she had not just a minute ago dozed off. But the voice of a woman, slightly accented, African-American maybe, called for her to get up.

Her nudity she had silently worried over, only to be told there were hospital clothes in the nightstand. They needed to do a medical exam first thing.

She remembered the woman, a bit stout, older than her but not too much. Smiling. The doctor had smiled too. Dr. Sevarius, she learned as she sat down on the table.

He had told her so little, she realized now.

It was a different room. She had been examined in what had been like a doctor's office, complete with that bed thing with the rolled out paper on it and the posters on health pasted among the cabinets.

This room was sterile. Everything hard, ceramic, metal or behind glass.

The doctor had examined the syringe, letting a dribble of liquid come out and smiled.

She had asked, and he had answered. She had offered her arm to the needle.

He took it.

He took it.

HE TOOK IT!

Maggie screamed and was flying as her blood burned. She hit the wall shoulder first, pain lanced through her, but she only stumbled. Her weight was in her feet, hard to fall with it all down there.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest, her blood was acid, burning her veins as it seared through her. Her bones were grinding against themselves. And her mouth, there was something stuck in it. She clawed at the gag and the strap but her fingers were numb.

Her eyes crossed as she looked at her fingers. Tufts of blonde hair sticking out from them.

Her weight leapt to her head. She fell and hit another wall, sliding and twisting.

Face pressed against glass, she thought she saw a golden eye staring back at her. She definitely saw the doctor smiling as he spoke into a tape-recorder.

Yes, they were jolly eyes, she realized. But not Santa eyes. It was like from the comics she had borrowed from other kids and the cartoons she watched before being told those were not things for girls. It was Joker's jolliness dancing in those eyes. The joke was on her.

She faded into the pain, sliding down onto the floor.

 **X X X**

The gag was removed at some point. They put food in front of her. Sometimes she even drank some of the water, but she thought the food always went away untouched.

Everything hurt. Each beat of her heart made her want to scream. But it was too much to scream, to move, to even think now.

Nothing mattered save for stillness, because anything else only made it worse.

Her face felt like it was trying to escape her head. To abandon the ship and run away to join the circus.

People came and went. Even the doctor. They spoke, they poked. They even poked at her teeth and brushed them or something. The things stuck to her back they messed with; they seemed pleased at her yowling at the pain in those things.

Once, or maybe a dozen times, they had taken her back to the cold sterile place. She thought she saw monsters there, cat men leering at her and laughing in aquariums, ignoring the eels to mock her.

The men and the doctor did things and gagged her save when they shoved something else in her mouth. They stuck things in her arm too.

It was a relief to get thrown back in the room with the invisible wall.

 **X X X**

There was a pattern to her existence, Maggie realized. The same woman always came in before they took her to the painful place. And she always got worse, more numb, after drinking the water the woman left.

Arthritic as it was, the wheels in her head turned. And she glanced to see that same woman putting a tray down. And that the door behind her was not fully closed.

Maggie didn't want to go back to the painful place.

She flew. She battered people and the door all aside, she fell to her hands but kept flying.

The world fell away to darkness, cold seeped in like a shroud. She was in an alley? Outside? Yes, she realized. She was outside, back where she was before the doctor.

She looked at her hands and bit her lip, yipped at the sharp pain of it, tasting blood in her mouth.

What had happened?

Shadows came down from above and her eyes widened in horror.

First a Joker, now Batmen, she thought, coming to a halt. The figures landed and she swore she felt a small wind tug at her face.

One, large and bald, the other hunched and with a mane of white hair and horns.

Not Batmen, she realized. Gargoyles.

"That's not Demona," one of them said. She noticed then his face was messed up, like a beak or something.

"Stay away from me!" she shouted, throat pulsing with pain at the words.

"Wait, we're not-" the beaked one said, moving toward her. She almost turned to bolt, then the lights came on. Headlights and flashing ambulance lights. Turning, she saw them advancing down the alley. The white coats.

The men said something she didn't make out, her hearing giving way to a rumbling roar. But raised guns toward her was a clear message.

The gargoyles took cover and she dived behind a dumpster.

Pressing her face against the dumpster, ears ringing, she wished frantically for everything to just stop. It felt like she was going to vomit any second. Was this even actually happening, she wondered frantically. Then the dumpster burned her.

"Gah!" she gasped, falling backwards, blinking as electricity visibly coursed over her hiding place.

A strong hand grabbed hers. The beaked gargoyle was pulling her to her feet.

"Come on," she barely heard him. But she did hear him. The white coats she saw were scattered but rallying. Another look showed he was trying to drag her to where his big companion was behind another dumpster.

They were trying to take her, she realized in a panic. Every story of gargoyles boiled to the front of her mind and she nearly jerked her hand free. Then she looked back to the white coats and the ambulance. White like the doctor. Like the van that had taken her to the horror.

They wanted to take her back to the pain.

Fear of the unknown and fear of going back struggled and she was jerked into cover behind the dumpster as the white coats opened fire again.

Beakface slumped and pulled a dart out from somewhere. She watched the big guy growl and put his shoulder against the dumpster. Beakface did the same, shaking his head and Maggie, realizing what they were doing, pressed her own hands against the metal.

To her shock, it actually moved, and then they were practically jogging down the alley, pushing the massive weight of steel and garbage. She tripped on something and face planted. People cried out, and a car alarm started going off. Leathery hands grabbed her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. Darkness ate away at the edge of her vision, and she watched the night sky draw closer.

Someone was telling her to stay awake. But they were wrong, her name wasn't Brooklyn.

 **X X X  
**

Broadway paced the rooftop, running a hand over his crest. Brooklyn and the stranger were nearby, just feet away. Brooklyn was down, he had lost the fight to stay awake. Tranq dart, high power, Xanatos-level stuff. The white coats didn't exactly look like Xanatos' people, but men in off-looking ambulances with white coats, sunglasses, and dart guns set off a lot of ideas from the Sci-Fi Channel. None of them good.

Still, he was certain the sun would heal Brooklyn.

The problem was the woman. Not Demona, not even like any gargoyle he had seen before. Raking his mind, he was certain Hudson and other elders had told him about gargoyles of the south, way down in England, had looked like cats and birds and stuff. But they were extinct even back in the old days.

"Or are they?" Broadway wondered, looking to the girl. A scrawny thing, didn't look like her wings would hardly even slow a fall, much less glide. Naked too, lots of alarm bells there. He'd been blushing having to haul her to this roof.

Seemed to be drugged too. Went from zoning out to frantically trying to get them to drop her to her death at the turn of a dime.

Both of them were laid out on the rooftop. He could carry one back, he could still make it to the tower he was certain, or at least gain some good distance if those men were still looking. But not enough time for both. And what would he find tomorrow leaving one alone?

He stopped pacing and knelt beside Brooklyn. At least his breathing seemed steady, then with a twitch his eyes opened and he tried to sit up. Broadway moved to support him, but it was clear his friend was going nowhere right now.

"She safe?" Brooklyn asked.

"Worry about yourself a little, why don't you buddy? She's not in a good way though. Must be drugged, or sick. She's in or out and her freaking out nearly got me killed hauling her up here."

"Dawn?" Brooklyn asked.

"Just enough time to get you back to the tower."

"No. Her," Brooklyn said, not able to keep his eyes opened.

"No way! Those creeps are probably still looking. I can't leave you here like this," Broadway was relieved to be able to say it out loud.

"Not looking for me, and dawn will have them find a statue. Get her, away from them."

"What if it was a set up?" it occurred to Broadway, "She might be in league with Demona, or Xanatos, and wants us to show our new home?"

He waited for a response, but realized Brooklyn had gone back under.

"Oh brother. Well, Broadway, you dream about being the leader, this is that kind of call here."

"*Hork*!" the girl made a noise. Rolling over onto her stomach, her wings stretched painfully-looking wide as her body arced. He winced as she vomited up some brown-colored foam stuff. And again when she collapsed, slamming her face into the vomit.

"Well, if that's faking, it's better acting than the Pack ever did," Broadway conceded. He needed more time, but there really wasn't any, was there?

 **X X X**

He compromised in the end. He helped Brooklyn as best he could and had carried the girl away, making as good a time as he could. Not a direct line for the tower, but getting closer. Hopefully he would only have a short flight there, and Brooklyn would have no trouble and head straight home at sunset.

As for him, he was getting her away but not home. He would risk himself today, no one else. At least she seemed to have calmed down. Only twitching and grumbling when she wasn't dead weight. Checking the sky, he decided this was the best he could do.

The girl was unconscious again as he gently put her down. Hopefully stone sleep would see her better, and maybe a few questions answered.

"What a night, hey lady?" Broadway remarked. Receiving no answer, he sighed and turned to face the rising sun.

 **X X X**

She was outside, Maggie realized that before she opened her eyes. The wind and the sounds of the city riding around her. And gravel in her back. The gravel took her back for a moment to games of tag on weed-pocked gravel.

Opening her eyes, she looked up into a gray sky. Sensations of falling up came over her, and closing her eyes didn't help. Instead she looked to the side and saw she was on a roof, able to see the raised lip of it.

Rolling off her back with a groan, she braced herself on hands and knees, hoping the dizziness would fade. Fur, claws, and a hand to her face confirmed her face was ruined too.

They made her a monster.

It occurred to her there should be a stronger reaction. But for now, she was thirsty. Her throat felt like it would start bleeding if she so much as coughed.

There, a few clumps on snow in the shadow of the roof lip. Remnant from the last snowfall.

Getting to her feet, wobbling, she gingerly walked over toward the edge. She nearly lost her balance twice, and the things on her back kept twitching and something kept bumping into the back of her thighs.

Bracing herself on the concrete lip of the roof edge, she knelt down. Taking care not to look over, she lowered her head and began scooping up the snow.

It tasted terrible, and her mouth felt awkward. But chewing on the snow, water began to pass down her throat.

Having grabbed all the snow in reach, she turned around to put her back to the concrete , but the things in her back protested.

Then she noticed the statue. A gargoyle stood on the roof, stout and fierce-looking with claws raised and wings spread.

It triggered fevered memories.

Had she been abducted by gargoyles? Saved by them? Just a hallucination? Trying to put the scattered pieces together, she slipped into unconsciousness.

Dreams followed, some brief and formless, others more concrete. She dreamed of the trailer, of her parents eating breakfast together. She was angry they had set her cereal bowl on the floor rather than the table. And forgot the cereal. Still, with only a meow of protest, she lowered her head and began to lap up the milk as her father scratched that perfect spot behind her ears.

Lancing pain in her hands brought her back. It carried over to her back.

The day passed in exhaustion staring listlessly or writhing in pain with restless unconsciousness breaking it up.

 **X X X**

Broadway roared and stretched as he always did when awakening. It only took a moment to recall why he wasn't at the tower.

"AAAAA!" the girl screamed, scooting backward, eyes wide.

"What?" he said.

"You! Stone! Gargoyle!?" she stammered.

"Uh, are you saying you aren't…" Broadway trailed off as the woman's eyes rolled up in her head and she passed out.

"Well, I guess that works for right now," Broadway sighed.

He was going to tell her to stay put but who knew how long she would be out? And first thing was first, he needed to get Goliath and the rest.

"If you can hear me, please stay here. I'm going to get help. Okay?" he said, kneeling down next to the feline-looking person.

"Okay then," he answered himself when he got to his feet.

Taking to the air, he made a beeline for the tower.

 **X X X**

"This could be a trap, we know nothing about her," Lexington pointed out. Brooklyn had arrived on Broadways heels and now the clan was gathered inside the tower.

"You weren't there, Lex! She was terrified, being hunted like an animal," Brooklyn countered.

"All of which could be staged by someone like Xanatos. Why are you so eager to endanger the clan for a stranger?" Lexington pressed.

"Hey! We're gargoyles, we protect, remember?" Brooklyn snapped.

"Well, we can't do that if we get killed or captured because we brought a plant into the tower," Lexington spat back. Brooklyn had closed some distance between them, and Lexington for his part had half turned away, giving a glare at his rookery brother.

"Enough," Goliath spoke up. Turning away from the gear works, he gave his attention to the two warriors, which was enough to make them at least adopt less hostile postures.

Brooklyn may be too eager, Goliath thought. But Lexington still carried scars from his foolishness with the Pack. A well-needed lesson that it was, Goliath would not allow it send the warrior down the path of distrust that had created Demona.

"Broadway. You have said little for having been there," Goliath stated. Broadway crossed his arms and took a breath, seemingly having prepared for his piece.

"…She was afraid Goliath. And sick. No, terrified is probably a better word. I think she was scared of us too, just less than those men. It could've been acting, drugs taken to make her messed up on purpose. But honestly, if it's acting I'll eat my hat, Goliath,;and nominate her for an Oscar. Though if she didn't turn into stone, she's not a gargoyle."

"Hmm, some child of the Third Race, maybe?" Hudson offered.

"That matters little. If we agree she is an innocent, she deserves protection. We will all go now, and see for ourselves," Goliath commanded. Brooklyn was first out, only for Broadway to follow, demanding to know where Brooklyn thought he was going, as he didn't know where the girl was.

Lexington only gave an eye roll before following. Good, Goliath thought. Hudson spoke up as they made their way to the stairs.

"You know the white coats put me in mind of the Sci-Fi Channel movies. Maybe the lass is some product of human science?"

"Hopefully we will have answers soon," Goliath said, as they took to the air. Bronx growled at being left behind.

 **X X X**

"She was right there," Broadway claimed, pointing to a spot near where his stone skin was scattered about.

Lex knelt near the spot and narrowed his eyes, sniffing, then recoiled slightly.

"Looks like you really gave her a scare," Lex said, holding his nose.

"If she's in as poor a state as Broadway says, she won't have gotten far," Hudson remarked, looking the roof over. Checking behind the stairwell hut, he nodded to Brooklyn, who was peering from the other side, "Good instincts, lad."

"If it is a trap, this could be the time," Goliath said, scanning the cityscape.

"Over here!" Broadway called. He and Lex stood by the top of the fire escape, Broadway gripping the top ladder rungs. Under the first flight of thin metal stairs a form was huddled, and as the clan gathered was racked by a coughing fit, wings spasming plainly.

"Remain here," Goliath ordered, cutting off Brooklyn. Broadway made way, letting Goliath access the ladder. Taking a moment to consider his bulk and the figure below, the leader of the clan began his descent.

'It would be faster to go down directly, but if she is delirious, better she hear me coming than shock her by suddenly appearing.'

His descent was not too loud, but it was audible, and judging by the gasp below she knew someone was coming.

The furry figure was huddled against the brick wall, arms covering her head and stunted wings vainly stretched trying to shield her. They had neglected to mention she was naked; Goliath repressed the growl that nearly came at the implications.

"We are here to help you, not harm you," he said.

She uncovered her face, revealing golden cat eyes just like he had been told. But he also noticed something else. Something off-color on her wrist. But his attention went back to her face.

Fear; she was trembling, and with no stone sleep, poison or illness would linger like for a human.

Goliath sat down, hoping the gesture would calm her.

Breathing hard, she pulled herself up, bracing a hand on the wall. Yes, some kind of bracelet or wristband. That could be important.

"Were you human once too?" she spoke. A gravelly voice, pained and abused.

"No," he answered simply. She made a sound that might have been a laugh or wet cough.

"Well, I'm human! Maggie, my name is Maggie Reed! I'm from Ohio! Near a city called… Fairfield. I'm not like THIS" she shouted. The last word she punctuated by smacking her fist onto the bricks; to Goliath's surprise, sparks sprouted from the blow. The bracelet.

"I believe you. What happened to you?" Goliath demanded. She answered with muttering, knees buckling and rubbing her cheeks with her free hand. Eyes unfocused, she sank back to her knees, muttering.

 **X X X**

"She said she was human," Goliath said as he stepped back onto the rooftop. He carried the girl, who had drifted off again, his wings folded to grant some modesty for the moment.

"We heard," Hudson said.

"Maggie, nice name," Brooklyn remarked.

"Lexington, there's some kind of bracelet on her left wrist, I think it's electronic," Goliath said, adjusting the girl so the arm slipped free. Maggie groaned slightly, but did not awaken.

Lexington gingerly inspected the wrist and pulled a metallic band from the tangle of fur. With a slight bit of exertion, it broke.

"Hey! Be careful!" Brooklyn chided.

"Hey, it was practically broken off already, relax. Whatever it was, it's been fried — just look at the wires here. And there's a name. Gen-U-Tech," Lexington said examining the bracelet.

Broadway smacked a fist into his palm, "That name. It was on the ambulance! That's who was after her."

"Likely still after her, lad," Hudson put in. That had them all looking to the city around them, all clear for the moment it seemed.

"We must get back to the tower, Elisa can do more with this than we can," Goliath said.

 **X X X**

The girl did not wake in flight; that was probably a blessing, Goliath noted. Once back, he placed her on the couch. Brooklyn fetched a blanket without prompting. Gargoyles were not so squeamish about the body as humans, but it was still uncouth to display what little was designated as private. And stripping a woman down… well, the implications were much the same as with Humans.

"Hey, sorry for the late arrival," Elisa called, coming up the stairs.

"I actually you're just in time. And I don't suppose the police station has a 'coat grab pile' or something?" Broadway asked.

"Coats?" Elisa said, coming onto the main floor.

"We have a guest tonight," Goliath said. They cleared the way for her to see Maggie curled up on the couch, face clearly showing and one twitching wing starting to peek through the blanket. Elisa put hand to her mouth.

"A gargoyle?" she asked them.

"Apparently not. She claims to be human. With a name and everything," Goliath said.

"Some white coats with rifles were chasing her down last night. That's why me and Broadway didn't make it back. They were packing tranqa that could down me and weren't as sirprised at the sight of us and they should have been," Brooklyn said.

"Beginning. Start at the beginning please," Elisa said, taking a breath.

 **X X X**

Elisa sat in Hudson's chair, looking over the tracking bracelet. That was what it was. Higher end tech than the department budget could afford for house arrests and the like. Not the sort of thing that broke or short circuited from a bit of rain or bad bump.

Maggie herself was not forthcoming on answers. When Broadway went for a snack from the fridge, the girl had perked up. She'd actually knocked over Brooklyn, charging on all fours to the stuffed fridge. Scarfing down nearly half of it, she had been in a daze since, slumped against the side of it. And growling if anyone tried to move her away.

"Naked, drugged, starving, and this story of being human. I'll be looking into this Gen-U-Tech business," Elisa said firmly.

"Yeah, but Maggie is the star witness," Broadway pointed out, "I mean, she seems better tonight and with food and water she should get better quicker. She can tell us more of what's going on once her heads all cleared out I bet."

"Read my mind. You guys keep an eye on our witness here, and me and Matt will see what Gen-U-Tech is involved in."

"Ye lads best get on patrol, seems we won't be moving until we know a good bit more. Bronx and I will keep an eye on the lass," Hudson said.

"I think I should stay," Brooklyn interjected.

"Of course you do," Broadway remarked.

"We will all go on patrol. It may be better when she comes to her senses in a strange place not to be surrounded by a crowd," Goliath said. Brooklyn looked like he wanted to object but Goliath had already turned to go only giving Elisa a farewell. With Lexington and Broadway followig after the white haired Gargoyle jut grumbled and fell into line after them.

Elisa was the last to leave, giving the snoring Maggie an appraising look.

"I think I can give a good guess on her size. She'll need something to wear," she admitted.

"Err, to the loose, humans don't account for fur," Hudson reminded her. And then she was gone too, the sound of the clockworks and the tv coming back to the forefront in the tower.

Alone with Bronx and the girl, Hudson went on one knee to look at her and sighed.

"I had hoped you were a survivor of England, lass. If Gargoyles could survive that dark time, then I could hope we aren't the last. But it doesn't matter. We are gargoyles, and we protect."

There was no sense hovering; returning to his chair, he watched Bronx nudge open the slightly ajar fridge, retrieve a long sausage, and sit himself firmly beside the sleeping girl and begin eating.

"Well, that's one vote of approval you can trust," Hudson chuckled. Turning on the TV, he lowered the volume a bit and began to channel surf.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please no reviews asking me to update other stories.**

 _Now then, I have wanted to write A Maggie centric Gargoyle's story for years. The basic premise is pretty simple as you can see. But for some reason the story finally clicked. Bad timing as I wanted to work o "D & H" and "Queen of All Oni", but I find its better to follow the inspiration than try to direct it elsewhere and loose it. So I have the first three chapters of this story written, and will release them over time as I work on the next Dragon and Horse chapter._

 _After chapter three I can't promise anything on releases for this story any more than my other fics._

 _Hope you enjoyed this tale so far. Long days and pleasant nights to you all._


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer_ : Turns out I still don't own Disney's Gargoyles.

 _Betaed by:_ Zim'smostloyalservant and Trackula

* * *

Chapter 2

 **Consequences**

Maggie awakened in a warm place. There was a blanket, which she pulled tighter around herself without thought.

A nightmare, she thought for a hopeful moment. But then she opened her eyes and saw stonework and great gears moving. Hearing snoring, she saw some kind of monstrous dog with webbed ears curled up next to her. She did not scream or even flinch, only sighed. Touching her face, she felt it covered in hair, and her tongue inspected sharp fangs. Her eyes slid shut.

She was too tired for… anything, she decided.

"Roo?" the dog thing said. It got up, and instead of leaving she felt it lean into her. Opening her eyes, she saw its face in her face.

"Uggghhh," Maggie groaned at its breath. Pulling a hand out of the blanket, she had a mind to pull the fabric over her head.

Then a giant wet tongue licked her face clear down the center.

Maggie blinked, torn between disgust and being dumbfounded as it set in that a monster that was apparently a dog had licked her face. She could only stare at the monster dog as if its seemingly smiling face would yield same sort of foothold for her mind to settle on.

Reaching out with her freed hand she put her hand on the creature's face, and pushed at itm hoping it would just go away. It didn't growl, but it did not look pleased and it did not budge.

"You're awake, good. Feeling better after some proper rest and a bit of food, I trust," a man said. A Scottish accent, she noted.

Looking past the beast and pushing up against whatever she was leaning against, she was shocked to see part of this massive gear room was done up like a living room. There was even a TV playing. Though it clicked off as her eyes landed on it.

The speaker stood up from a recliner and turned to face her. He was a portly old gargoyle, with tan-colored skin, ruddy orange wings, and white hair with a beard that hung over his neck to touch his chest. He wore a tough looking leather jerkin as if from a play and trousers in addition to a loincloth of all things. No shoes, she noted numbly as he walked toward her.

He stopped a few feet off and looked at her, stroking his beard. She watched as his wings folded to drape like a cloak over his shoulders, tiny claws seeming to snap together like a clasp over the base of his neck. She noticed there was a scar over one of his eyes and it was discolored, blind. She had never really thought of a gargoyle being hurt. And were those trios of horns growing out the sides of his forehead?

"Well, yer not screaming and running. That's very good," he noted.

The dog thing shifted with a complaining sound, and Maggie realized she was still pushing at its face with her free hand. Seeing her hand covered in fur and tipped with tan-colored claws made her shudder.

"Give the lass some space, Bronx."

The creature, Bronx, obeyed and walked over to the old gargoyle.

"Bronx?" Maggie asked.

"Aye, that's his name these days. And it's Hudson for me, if you're wondering. I heard your name's Maggie. And you were once human?" Hudson asked.

"Yes," she said, trying to push herself back against the fridge, she realized, glancing over her shoulder. Her stomach gurgled and cramped slightly. She put a hand to it, trying to will it stilled.

"Ah. I had hoped you were a gargoyle. There are so few of us left," he admitted.

"What do you want with me?" Maggie asked, trying to take in the situation. They had taken her to their lair. And even if she wasn't locked up, they had left a guard. And, she noticed, Hudson had a very sharp-looking sword on his belt.

"Want? We're gargoyles, lass. When someone in our territory needs protection, we provide it. The lads found you being hunted like an animal. To help was as natural as breathing the air," he explained.

Maggie huffed, and blushed at the words. That was rude, but the last good samaritan had been the doctor. And the homeless, while not hostile, had hardly been generous, as she recalled. Her aunt's lectures about having to look out for yourself loomed unwelcome but sadly relevant.

Standing up, she was careful to hold the blanket around her shoulders, even feeling the… wings. Yeah, wings wasn't it? Well, they were twitching behind her and making her head ache.

A sensation came over her forcing itself up her throat. She belched, loudly. Cheeks burning, she covered her mouth. What was that taste? Pepperoni? When had she eaten freaking pepperoni?

Shaking her head, she frowned at the blanket; it made her face feel sore.

"You'll be wanting clothes, of course. Elisa said she'd bring you something. Human clothes could be tricky with wings, but I expect they can be cut right in short enough order," he said. He had not gotten any closer, and her ears perked at the mention of clothes.

Perked. Her ears, she had felt them really, actually, move.

She was feeling dizzy.

"Would you like to take a real seat?" he asked, gesturing to his recliner. Maggie frowned, despite the soreness, but nodded.

The first step reminded her that her feet were also messed up. The fresh reminder, she thought, was more disorienting than the weird feet.

Still, she stayed upright and, holding her blanket tight, she made the next steps without toppling. She kept an eye on Hudson, who to her surprise moved not just to make way for her to the chair but walked off enough that she didn't really get any closer to him.

Reaching the recliner, she let her bottom fall hard into it.

"Egggh!" she whined, sitting back up immediately.

"Lass?" Hudson asked.

"Tail," she muttered, moving it safely aside with a hand. And feeling the hand touch it. The wings meant she couldn't recline. But yes. She was sitting in a comfy chair. In what seemed to be a clocktower. With an old gargoyle and a monster dog. The remote to the TV was on the arm of the chair. Looking to the "tube", she felt a bit nauseous.

"Something wrong?"

"Uhh, I think sitting down and watching TV on top of everything else will just convince me I have gone insane. Hehahha. When the world ends, you don't just… Do normal things," she laughed. She giggled, considering her own words.

"The world hasn't ended, lass. It's still here, and so are you," he said.

"Hey, she's awake," a familiar voice called. Looking to one of the clock faces, her jaw dropped a bit at the sight of three gargoyles. The bluish-green one she recognized as the big one that had carried her off and been a statue. Had that happened, the statue thing? The red one with white hair and a beak — er, muzzle — was also there when they saved her from the white coats. And he was walking toward her.

Getting close.

"Are you okay? Your name's Maggie, right?" he asked. Maggie grabbed the remote and held it ready as he got closer.

 **X X X**

Brooklyn missed Hudson's gesture to back off. Focused on the girl yet missing that she was tensing up and looked ready to smack him with the remote if he got too close. Fortunately, Broadway was looking to him, so when Hudson gestured for him to grab Brooklyn, the stout lad just nodded and hooked an arm under Brooklyn's own, stopping him and dragging him back a surprised step or two.

"Easy there, buddy. Give the lady some air," Broadway said. Brooklyn seemed about to snap something, but looked back to Maggie and seemed to really notice for the first time that she was staring at him in alarm.

"Umm, well, you're up," Brooklyn coughed.

"Obviously," Lexington remarked, joining Hudson and petting Bronx.

"I'm just being polite," Brooklyn grumbled. Standing clear of Broadway but not getting closer, he cleared his throat.

"So, you're Maggie. You've met Hudson and Bronx?" he asked.

"Yes," Maggie said stiffly.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn. This is Broadway. And that's Lexington. But you can call him Lex," Brooklyn said, pointing to his rookery brothers respectively.

"You feeling okay? You ate a lot of stuff before," Broadway asked. As if on cue, Maggie gave a burp and covered her mouth. Then she made a clicking sound with her tongue.

"Did I eat Jalapeños?" she asked. Broadway nodded.

"Cleared out the jar. I guess we should be glad you opened the jar before eating them," he joked.

"…I don't even like peppers," Maggie mused, relaxing a little.

"I think you were practically starving," Brooklyn added.

"Has she said anything about her being human?" Lexington whispered to Hudson.

"No, I thought it best to make her feel comfortable before pressing her," the elder gargoyle answered. Lex crossed his arms and watched Brooklyn and Broadway try to start some small talk with the cat-faced woman, only to get one word answers.

"Something big is going on. Xanatos?" Lexington proposed.

"Wouldn't be surprising. But he's not the only foul force in this city," Hudson remarked.

"Xanatos? That bazillionaire?" Maggie said, looking straight at them.

"…How good is your hearing?" Lexington asked. Maggie blinked and touched one of her ears, only to cringe.

"Good, she has recovered some," Goliath said as he swept in through the doorway. Maggie looked up at the massive gargoyle and seemed to shrink down in her chair.

 **X X X**

Elisa walked up the stairway, carefully balancing the boxes she was carrying. She should probably be worried at how relatively easy it was for a detective to smuggle things out of the station. Well, her mom always said good fortune was too rare and precious to unduly question it at the crunch.

She heard the guys before she saw them.

"Guys, how is she?" Elisa asked, stepping up into the main tower room.

Hudson was in his seat with a cooking show on, but the others were standing around.

"She's on the toilet. Been there for about an hour. Guess Jalapeños and uncooked meat didn't agree with her," Broadway said.

"Or she was overwhelmed by Goliath coming in," Lexington pointed out.

"She hasn't said anything since she went in there," Goliath informed her.

"Okay guys, let me handle this. Brooklyn, put these over there for some privacy, okay?" she asked, handing Brooklyn the parcels.

The bathroom up here had actually been here already. Just neglected. She guessed the ancient-looking half-bath tucked out of the way had been put in back when there was a regular staff of some sort tending the clock. It hadn't really worked well when the Clan moved in. But she had helped her father with plumbing enough to get the neglected set up working.

The door was a cheap wood thing with half the varnish having peeled off and a doorknob that may have once been shiny but was now dark and pebbled in appearance. No lock, but she knocked anyway.

 **X X X**

Maggie sat on the ugly old toilet, blanket under her feet. She kept scrunching her toes, the sensation of the soft cloth on the pads of her feet a bit soothing.

Pads. Literal pads, she had checked.

It was getting uncomfortable sitting on this thing. And, she was paranoid that she was still not clean. Stupid butt fur.

The knock made her seize up.

"You can't come in! I'm on the toilet!" she objected. She had tried to forget what was out there, but she couldn't, could she? And here she was, naked, without even her blanket covering her.

A woman's voice called through the door.

"No problem, I'm not coming in. I just want you to know you can come out. I have clothes for you and a few sandwiches."

A woman! There was a woman here?

Maggie got to her feet and put her hand on the door, staring at it as if it would reveal secrets if she looked hard enough. Thinking better of it, she tried to press an ear to the door.

"Are you a gargoyle?" she asked.

"No, human. Elisa Maza, detective, NYPD, at your service. Miss Reed, right?" the voice said.

Police? Police worked with gargoyles? Well, she had heard a few stories that the gargoyles were cops with costumed power armor, or that cops fed homeless to gargoyles to keep them away from the quality people. Still, that might be a woman out there. And she said there were clothes. Kneeling down on popping knees, Maggie picked up a handful of blanket and drew it up to cover her chest. With her free hand, she opened the door to see who, or what, was outside.

 **X X X**

Seeing this girl awake was quite a different experience, Elisa thought. The golden eye was what she saw first when the door cracked open. Definitely catlike, but the look in it, way too familiar. She credited it to her time with the Clan that when the door fully opened she wasn't wasting time on the exotic parts of Maggie Reed's body. She was in full cop mode, specifically dealing with a victim. Maggie Reed's posture and expression screamed fatigue and vulnerability. Abuse. Trauma. A lot of the matters she had been trained to be a first responder to, and she knew there was no paramedic to pass this woman off to.

Elisa stretched out a hand and gave a smile. The cat woman did not take it, staring at the hand then her, eyes wide.

"Want to see my badge?" Elisa asked. Maggie nodded. Elisa pulled out her badge and held it out, inviting Maggie to take it. The woman did hesitantly take it, and looked puzzled as to what to do with it. So she just handed it back.

"The police work with gargoyles?" Maggie asked. Elisa shrugged, smiling and putting the badge away.

"More this detective works with gargoyles. Why don't we get some clothes on you before talking about that though?" Elisa asked. Maggie didn't nod, but she did take the hand offered now and let Elisa lead her fully out of the bathroom.

The hand was quite warm, and the fur felt like a cat's, alright. Elisa felt the claws rub against her hand as Maggie tightened her grip, turning her head to keep an eye on the gargoyles as Elisa led her out of sight behind the gear work where Brooklyn had left the boxes.

The first thing Elisa offered was not actually clothes, it was a cylinder of moist wipes. Maggie actually let go of the blanket to start wiping her face. She didn't look injured, though the fur could be hiding bruises. But she did look scrawny. Starved, or a side effect of the transformation she had undergone?

Maggie scrubbed her armpits and her butt last, before turning her attention to the other boxes. She pulled out a scrunchy and dropped it quickly, looking at her fingers with annoyance. Elisa silently offered help and put the other woman's hair back.

The underwear came next. The tail emerging from the base of the spine wasn't really in the way, but the panties and bra clearly weren't comfortable against the fur. Maggie didn't say it out loud, but she was relieved to get them off.

The jackets might work with some cuts, but the wings (had they gotten bigger?) were too much in the way. She actually made sounds of disgust at a lady's Yankees jacket before tossing it aside, while she had been more respectful to the rest.

What finally settled on the woman's body was a light green sundress. It looked… okay, Elisa decided. But it had a clear effect, as Maggie relaxed a little, fingering the material and even doing a bit of a twirl, smiling. Actually smiling.

"Miss Reed," Elisa said. Pulling out the styrofoam takeout box, she opened it, revealing the deli sandwich inside. Going off Gargoyle preferences and the fact she had been starved, it was plain but loaded with meat. Maggie took it and ate it right standing there. Not frantic like her earlier binge, but clearly eager.

At the last few bites, she suddenly seemed to remember Elisa was there, and looked at her with that deer in the headlights expression.

"…Am I under arrest?" the woman practically whined. Elisa was stunned, that was not a question she had expected.

"Haha, no, you're not. Why would you be?" Elisa couldn't quite stop laughing at the mutated woman sounding like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She almost put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but immediately stopped and took a step back when Maggie retreated a step.

Yeah, some trust built, but still a victim.

"Miss Reed. What happened to you?" Elisa asked.

"He took it away," Maggie growled. Eyes narrowing, she crushed the last bit of sandwich into crumbs and made fists as her eyes narrowed down.

"Who?" Elisa asked.

"Him. The man with jolly eyes. The doctor. He, he tricked me. I tru-trusted him!" she whispered. Trembling knees gave out, and Maggie went down on them in her new dress. Elisa carefully approached and knelt in front of her.

Maggie reached out and grabbed Elisa's shoulders. She told Elisa a garbled version of how she ended up homeless. Rumors of a man giving jobs to homeless people. And everything she could remember about the doctor and where she had been.

 **X X X**

"Really? Stone?" Maggie asked. She and Elisa stood on the clocktower balcony, Maggie almost but not quite touching the petrified Hudson and glancing back at Elisa.

"Yeah, I don't get how it works. Just part of being a gargoyle, it seems."

"What should I do now?" Maggie asked, looking very tired.

"For now? Looks like you could use some more sleep. I'm going to look into things streetside. They'll be up at sundown. You might not want to watch that, it can be a little intense the first few times. Till then, sleep, eat, watch TV. Try on some of the clothes again…" Elisa raised her hands, gesturing back into the tower.

Soon enough, the detective was gone, and Maggie was alone in the giant clock. She did go through the clothes again, but stuck with the dress. The news was on when she turned the TV on. Familiar anchors and the usual kind of news. It was too normal; she turned it off, feeling a headache coming on. Moving to the couch after finding the blanket where she left it, she laid down on her side carefully.

She hadn't really intended to sleep. And on waking was hungry and wondering what time it was. After a tap to her head, she checked the giant clock face for an answer. And then checked the fridge.

It turned out it wasn't snack time, as her bones decided it was time to dance again. The seizure passed, leaving her in the bathroom. She had vomited some stuff up into the toilet. Flushing it away, she licked the inside of her mouth. Tuna, when had she eaten tuna?

Oh, right, sandwich from the detective.

Had she really been a detective, Maggie wondered, as she cut a small loaf of bread in half and made a sandwich. Nothing smelled good right now, but her stomach was demanding, and she did not want dry heaves if she was going to vomit anyway.

Elisa Maza. A beautiful woman. Looked a bit African-American, but that hair. A shoo-in for leading woman. Was a cop, much less a detective, really that good looking? She wouldn't have thought so. Well, except for TV shows; they always had great looking people even for bad jobs if they were main characters. The badge had looked real. But who was she kidding? She had thought the doctor was on the level.

"But she did give me clothes," Maggie said. There wasn't a proper mirror here. Turning her attention to the turned off TV, she looked at her reflection in the convex darkened glass. A cat woman with bat wings in a dress too good for her. And holding a sub sandwich, too.

Feeling tired and not wanting to sleep, she went back to the couch and grouchily ate the sandwich, not tasting a bite.

Things fell into place. Memories fractured and distorted, held up frame by frame with nothing to distract her but the sounds of the great clock. Not awake enough to properly move from her spot on the couch. But not asleep enough to escape into the haze.

Frame by frame. Scene by scene. Garbled line of dialogue after another. Parts were missing. Others distorted to the point she practically discarded them. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she was determined to find it even if she didn't want it.

There.

That was it.

The pain room. Other cells had been attached.

They weren't empty. She had seen leering monsters. But now she felt she could really see the snapshots embedded in her memory. Apathy. Curiosity. Fear. Across inhuman faces. Faces like the one she wore.

One scene came in clearer. It played before her on an arthritic black and white projector: a tiger man lowered claws from his face to watch her get practically dragged by. His eyes full of despair and pain, impotent in his cage. Impotent as she was drugged and bound, being taken back to the doctor.

Maggie sat up on the couch, wings spread wide.

"They're still with him!?" she cried to no one.

Running out the doorway into the brisk wind, she saw the sun was getting close to the horizon.

 **X X X**

She had waited inside for them to awaken. Even though the detective arrived and went out. She thought she heard some roaring or something from her spot on the recliner. She was holding but not reading a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories she had found on the bookshelf tucked against one of the walls.

She had never been a big book reader. She had liked comics as a kid. And as an adult, she preferred scripts. They got straight to the point. Not wasting time on describing the setting or what people wore.

When the beautiful detective and the gargoyles walked in, she took a breath and faced them as they descended the stairs.

"I'm not the only one they took," she announced.

 **X X X**

"Gen-U-Tech. It's a legal company, on the face at least. A research and testing lab for medical genetic research, right here on Manhattan. The kind of place you expect to have interns slaving away at while old men argue over theories and budget," Elisa said, handing Goliath a printout showing a building front with the same symbol from the tracker below it.

And an address.

"You say there were others? You're certain?" he asked Maggie, who stood away from the group.

"Yes. At least two, maybe more. He was doing the same thing to them. He may have had them longer. Homeless — no one notices, fewer care when they vanish," she said sadly. She hugged herself but didn't go into another fit.

Homeless. Goliath had known of beggars and derelicts in the old days. But the sheer masses of humans that lived and died discarded by their own in this city bothered him. Elisa had been honest from the start of the many flaws with the city. That the greatest enemies were within and not beyond any walls.

But the way humans took for granted that people like Xanatos could hold more wealth than the richest king while so many of their own kind suffered and died wanting even for the most basic things… It was a wrong a warrior could do nothing to right. And this Doctor Sevarius was preying on them. No different from the likes of the Archmage playing with lives.

"You're going after them, aren't you?" Elisa said.

"I understand the police cannot move without evidence," Goliath said.

"That may not be as hard as usual. Those mercenaries have been making waves. With the tracking device turned in as evidence, wheels are turning. Matt could be knocking on their door with a warrant in an hour."

"Ha."

Everyone turned to Maggie, who was glaring at Elisa.

"You think the doctor isn't ready to play around with cops? These people are in deep, and they have money. And the only ones missing are those no one cares to look for. He'll probably let you in and give a nice tour and you leave, seeing nothing but some petro, petish, whatever, dishes in a fridge."

Brooklyn spoke up.

"She's right. Remember how Xanatos bought his way out of jail in just months? This doctor probably has lawyers on speed dial and full details of plans to cover his tracks if the cops come calling."

Goliath saw what they meant. And while Elisa was clearly displeased at the words, she did not have a ready reply.

"Elisa. We cannot wait. It's possible he may kill his hostages to cover his tracks when you come," Goliath concluded.

"Fine, I figured as much. But I will be along with Matt just in case," she said.

"Can I… I need to come too," Maggie said.

 **X X X**

The Gen-U-Tech compound. It was more fortified than Goliath was used to seeing human structures be in this time. But it did not seem like it would hinder them much. The wall was a paltry thing that would have amused the Northmen, even.

Hudson accompanied him in the air as they scouted the perimeter. He noted the loading dock Maggie had mentioned. An armed guard stood outside, holding a rifle. Not standard model. Likely one of the dart guns like that had brought down Brooklyn.

"Are you sure it's wise to bring the lass?" Hudson asked him.

"She is terrified and she wants to face it. Courage should not be discouraged," Goliath said. Truthfully, he had somewhat hoped the sight of the Gen-U-Tech building would discourage her. But that it had not, raised his opinion of the young woman.

"She's no warrior like Elisa. You realize she will be in danger," Hudson pressed.

"She made a good point. These… mutates, may fear us on sight. If we are to save anyone, we must be able to earn their trust quickly. Having someone they recognize as their own could be vital."

Landing on a roof to survey one last time before heading back to the others, he thought of the girl's agony and confusion. To be stripped of a portion of yourself like that. He could only imagine if someone were to snatch away his life as a gargoyle. This was a violation of people's very being. And it was happening in his city. He could leave justice to the humans when it was exposed, but he could not let this abomination continue.

"She escaped, Hudson. And she trusted us despite all the reasons to fear. She may not be a warrior yet, but she has a brave heart and good instincts. If she is willing, we should give her the chance."

 **X X X**

"No," Goliath said flatly to Maggie.

"What, it's a good plan," she insisted.

"No, no it is not," Brooklyn said, facepalming.

"Yeaaah, no," Broadway agreed.

"But they want me back. It's like a Trojan horse deal. I'll just say I realized there was nowhere else to go so… Ohh, I guess I have to strip down?" she realized mutely, tugging on her dress.

"No. Because that is not what we are going to do," Goliath rumbled.

"Well, what is your plan to get past their security?" she demanded.

"We go in high and break through. Lexington will use a terminal to get us a direction. We deal with whatever comes between us and the prisoners," Goliath answered.

"Just like that?" Maggie asked. Brooklyn chuckled and cracked his knuckles.

"Maggie, I think you still have a thing or two to learn about gargoyles. Watch and learn," he said.

 **X X X**

Goliath carried her to the Gen-U-Tech roof. He had carried her from the clocktower as well. She was surprised how warm a gargoyle could be.

Landing on the roof, he let her down and she stretched her wings. They were responding now, but they were still worthless compared to the wings of the gargoyles. Maggie looked back to where Hudson had stayed behind. They said it was back up in case they ended up needing rescuing or support when escaping.

"Brooklyn, stop!" Lexington snapped. That drew Maggie's attention back to the gargoyles with her. Brooklyn was in front of a skylight, his wrist grabbed by Lexington. Maggie approached, hands clasped in front of her.

"What? You're not getting cold feet, Lex," Brooklyn said, taking back his hand. His tone wasn't hostile, Maggie noted.

"This place could afford a top of the line tracker like was on Maggie. And they have that big fence out there. See those wires on the frame? Electricity, and I'd bet that means alarms," the small bald gargoyle explained.

Maggie looked down through the glass into the dark room below. Her throat was feeling dry.

"Well, how would you get in?" Brooklyn asked. Goliath answered.

"We make a way in." Maggie watched Goliath drive his claws into the rooftop, and then he ripped a chunk out of the roof. Her jaw dropped as the massive gargoyle tossed the piece of masonry and insulation aside and knelt to check the edge of his work. A moment's check seemed to satisfy him, and Goliath jumped down through the hole.

"Well, that's one way to make an entrance, eh Maggie?" Brooklyn remarked. He followed Goliath, and the others followed. Maggie stood on the roof, staring at the hole.

"Maggie?" Brooklyn called from below. Looking into the hole, she saw him and Broadway staring up. Did they expect her to jump?

Well, they'd probably catch her.

They didn't. Maggie blinked, crouched on the balls of her feet. That… she had never liked jumping, that feeling of hanging helplessness. The moment of panic. It hadn't come just now. That hadn't felt like falling even, and she stood up, hardly feeling any strain in her joints from jumping nearly a story down.

"Okay, I think I've got it," Lexington called. She spotted him now, at a computer, typing away while Goliath loomed over him.

"Looks like two subjects. Recently moved into the central testing atrium. Guess they wanted to concentrate security after Maggie got away. Huh, no info except that they're male and a serial number. Must be encrypted," Lexington said.

"How do we get there from here?" Goliath asked.

"Gimme a second."

"Maggie, you okay?" Brooklyn asked. She had been looking around. She didn't know this room, but this was the place. The doctor was here, somewhere, with his Joker eyes.

"Yeah, I am," she lied. She felt cold. And… when was the last time she sweated?

"Got it, cross-reference floor plans and the data," Lexington said.

 **X X X**

The Gargoyles were stealthier than she would have thought, making their way through the antiseptic-scented halls. The smell, she tried to ignore it.

Then a door opened to their left after Lexington ushered them into a hall he assumed was clear. A young African-American man backed out through the door, hauling a metal cart with cardboard boxes stacked on it.

The gargoyles froze, and the man did too. His head snapped over and saw the gargoyles in the hallway.

Maggie wan't sure if the man moved first or Brooklyn, but the stillness was suddenly in motion. The man screamed, rushed into the room he just came out of, and Brooklyn was bearing down after him.

Then an alarm went off. Brooklyn came back out and red lights started to go off.

"So much for stealth," Broadway remarked.

"Quickly!" Goliath snapped, and Broadway grabbed Maggie while Goliath overturned the metal cart and picked it up, taking it with them.

"Halt!"

"Gargoyles?!" someone called. Shots were fired, thundering in the halls. Maggie screamed and tried to go to the floor only to be hailed forward.

 **X X X**

Smoke started to billow at some point. It burned her nostrils and she felt her stomach try and clench. And the roaring in her ears. Not the gargoyles, or the guns even. She wanted to fall to all fours and run. Out of the smoke, away from the noise. She felt her skin prickle, fur standing on end.

A door was knocked open by Goliath, and she was dragged through. Air, no smoke, she breathed in and nearly hacked.

"Not now!" someone yelled.

"XANATOS! I should have known you were behind this!" Goliath roared. It was a confusing haze for a moment, with roaring, someone screaming out, and her hand was free and she turned around, trying not to fall.

She saw the two captives, a dark-furred cat man and the tiger man behind glass, watching with shock. A furred figure in a blue jacket was weeping and clawing at something on the floor. And nearby getting to his feet, bracing on a cane…

The doctor.

His eyes fell on her as he stood. Surprise, then a smile as his eyes lit up. Dancing jolly eyes.

Something let out a loud high shriek and he was in her face. His expression changed as she slammed him into the barrier the other prisoners were behind. He said something, grabbing her hands, glaring at her with fury and no fear.

The word creation reached her through her roaring ears and her lips pulled back; her fangs bared. His tirade continued mostly unheard still trying to pry her claws away.

Creation, his creation, she connected his words.

Was he… trying to claim her!?

She heard her own roar this time, and something relaxed in her shoulders and flowed up her arms.

Blue tinted her vision as the doctor danced a jig in her claws. She felt blood flowing over where she had pierced the skin and watched his hair curl and smoke. He kicked her in the stomach and she hardly felt it, just pouring all her anger and fear out through her hands. Flames ignited in his hair and those eyes finally went out, flashing and smoldering black as he stopped kicking her.

"MAGGIE!" someone yelled. Her shoulders were grabbed, pulling her back. She took the doctor with her, but without the wall, his weight hit her arms pullin her down. Someone cried out behind her, and nearly falling down with the doctor made her snap back to sound and motion.

"Lunatic! What have you done?" someone was screaming. She watched the mutating man be dragged backward by a bearded man with brown hair in a dark suit. Turning, she saw Brooklyn flexing his hands, looking at her in shock. He had been the one to cry out. When he touched her and… And… finally she looked to the smoldering corpse in front of her.

The lab coat was burned black and smoking at the shoulders, the hair burned in tufts, spreading already. And the eyes were burned crisps, with smoke rising.

The doctor's corpse smelled like pork.

Maggie swayed, felt the world spin, and felt someone grab her as the floor slipped away from her feet.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _Well there is chapter 2. I am not sure I captured Maggie's traumatized state well, so do tell please. Also a bit concerned on getting the 'voices' of the cast down right._

 _And we have here Anton Sevarius served well done rather than false fried. Our second major divergence and its just going to pile up, the process already playing out._

 _I am still working on D & H. As for this story most of chapter 3 is already done needing only a bridging scene or two and another round of editing. Hope to get it posted sometime next week. After that i can't say regarding updates for this story. _

_Hope it is proving enjoyable. Long days and pleasant nights to you all!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer:_ Signs indicate, I still do not own Disney's Gargoyles.

 _Betaed by:_ Trackula and Zim'smostloyalservant

* * *

Chapter 3

 **New Reality**

Burning pork. The smell was her first thought as her splitting head woke her.

Wind rushing through her hair and fur. Massive arms held her secure to a hard torso. Scent and sounds rising. The horrid pork scent replaced by a mustier one that reminded her of…

"Goliath," she said, eyes opening to reveal the large gargoyle was carrying her. Glancing down reflexively, she grabbed onto him as the sight of New York below greeted her.

"You're awake," Goliath said.

"Thank goodness. Did you know you could do that?" Brooklyn asked, gliding closer.

"Do what?" she asked. They didn't answer.

"The others?" she asked, remembering the mission.

"I'm sorry," Goliath said. Maggie closed her eyes. She had escaped Hell and failed to pull anyone else out.

When they got back to the tower, she entered before the rest. Despite apparently passing out, she was tired and hungry. Opening the fridge after giving Bronx a pat of greeting, her eyes fell on a pack of pork sausage.

Pork.

She closed the door and saw the gargoyles were watching her. Not sternly or even curiously. They looked to be waiting for something. She had a feeling she knew what.

"I killed him. I killed the doctor, didn't I?" she asked.

"Yes, but from what we saw that bastard-" Brooklyn began, but was silenced when Goliath raised a hand.

"You used electricity from your claws. Did you know you could do that?" Goliath asked. Maggie looked at her hands. Her claws. The fur did look a bit more curled than before.

"No," She answered. The smell of the sausage seeming to grow, she slammed the fridge shut and vomited on the floor.

 **X X X**

Hudson had decided she had been alone long enough. She had fled outside, and with those stunted wings, was not going anywhere. She was sitting in a corner, backed against the stone and legs pulled close to her chest. He stopped when she saw him, letting her have time to speak and think.

The first kill was never easy. A gargoyle should never seek to kill humans. It only made them fear more, and fear was like sparks among dry grass with humans. But the heat of battle and grim necessity forced one's hands eventually. Goliath, with his great strength and skill, had been late to that; it had been the Archmage who finally forced the lad's hand.

For Demona, it had been a viking raider years before Haakon Hardhand darkened Scotland's shores. No, not Demona, he thought. The lass who became Demona. She had been shaken up by the act, almost puzzled how easy it had been at the last to break the viking's head against stone. He had words for her then. Not just him, either, the clan as a whole did not just raise the young. In all things, there was the clan.

Maggie did not object to him joining her. He offered her a loaf of bread and a coffee mug full of water. She took both and ate slowly.

He would tell her of his first time. Offer the assurances of old and some new ones for her situation. In time — for now, he thought it best that the woman who had been through so much not be alone.

 **X X X**

When the clan awoke the next night, Elisa was waiting for them.

Maggie was in a poor state, and a surprising one. Her wings had grown in the course of a day. And now she was in the process of eating the last of the food.

"No evidence of any human experimentation. And the only real thing we can cite for is the unsafe working conditions that allegedly got Dr. Sevarius killed, and the shady legality of the mercenary activities."

"Xanatos?" Goliath asked. Maggie watched their conference from the table, tearing through another piece of meat as Broadway placed it down on a plate in front of her, freshly cooked. She could hear them quite clearly despite the distance; besides, it wasn't like they were whispering.

I killed the Doctor. It was a thought that came and went. Between guilt and disbelief. She had burned him to death. With her hands.

"We're looking for a link, but the dead doctor makes an excellent fall guy, and Xanatos seems to have done a good job distancing himself. So it will be hard to convince people in court he's guilty of more than poor choices in hiring Sevarius and giving Gen-U-Tech too much autonomy. With the legal team he has, I wouldn't hold my breath on him getting so much as a slap on the wrist," Elisa admitted.

'Big surprise,' Maggie thought, actually taking a moment to savor the chicken.

She had asked Hudson if it was okay to wish you hadn't killed someone, but being relieved they were dead. He had assured her that sometimes it was just needed. And, well, it would have to do for now. Listening to them discuss the other subjects, she noted the conversation take a turn, with Detective Maza apparently trying to pump her brother for information but him seemingly off the grid.

The interest prompted Maggie to stand and approach the group.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I have a question."

"I'm not arresting you for manslaughter," Elisa said. Maggie blinked; well, she had not really considered that.

"I'm not happy about someone being killed, but letting this genie out of the bottle would endanger too many people," the detective said. Though her tone made it clear this was not an easy concession. She did not look at Maggie the same, the mutated woman noted.

"It was in the heat of battle. And the man was a monster besides," Goliath said.

"We agreed life was precious, didn't we?" the detective said to him. It was not a challenge, but it was firm. He smiled and nodded.

"She will learn Elisa," he assured.

"What?" Maggie said, "My question was, what do I do now? I can't exactly go back to the streets looking like this. And with Gen-U-Tech a dead end…"

The gargoyles looked surprised at her question. Oh, so they had not given her any thought, she realized. Well, their seeming feud with the rich guy clearly took priority.

"We assumed you realized. You are free to say here as long as you want," Goliath said.

Maggie was stunned. Brooklyn smiled.

"Hey, it's not the Ritz, but I'd say it's a step up from the streets, at least. And you've got it to yourself during the day."

"Though if she keeps eating us out of house and home, Elisa's funds will take a hit," Lexington noted.

The discussion returned to finances, and Maggie drifted off, taking in the great gears and the clock faces.

She was being taken in? After everything, it should be a mundane realization, but it wasn't. If she said yes, she was no longer homeless. A burden rather than cared for, for certain, but still. Better than trash left to the streets.

 **X X X**

Maggie woke up to her stomach growling, as usual. She had not been asleep for long, as she noted from the clock, but sunlight was making its way into the tower. Raising her wings, she slid the blankets off her and stood up on the mattress, doing her first stretches. Stepping off, her flexed her toe claws in and was not rewarded with a click on the stone. The it was on all fours to complete the set and make her way to the rough kitchenette.

She did not bother with the fridge this time. The standalone cabinet had what she needed. Several nutrient bars and a bowl. With practiced efficiency, she cut the wrappers away with her claws and then crumbled up the bars in the bowl.

Sometimes she added sauce to make the carb-heavy "meal" better. Today she just wanted it done. No utensils needed, she ate by the handful but carefully trying to not lose a single crumb. Two more bowls and she was done, her stomach feeling full.

Next was toilet, then back to bed.

Second meal, second stomach pangs. This one some better food was allowed, a chicken leg this time alongside the bland but needed nutrients. She savored the meat, the texture and flavor, and reluctantly set the stripped bone aside to more of the crumble filled bowls.

And so it went. The day passed as it always did, hunger and fatigue as she surrendered to her body's needs. The clan said she had gained weight. Which to them only referred to a good thing, as to them there was well-fed or not enough food ingrained in their minds.

As she prepared the best meal of the day, she stopped to examine her left bicep. Yes, she had never been toned like this before. Had never been interested, really. Diet had been her preferred method to stay in shape. She was a drama girl, not an athlete, after all.

Or she had been, a lifetime ago.

Days were tedious and tiring things in this new life. She rarely spoke a word, and on a good day slept any time her body did not demand anything from her. The days she was awake, forced to watch TV or wander the tower in silence, or worse grumbling to herself and shivering as her fur stood and rested from head to tail… well, those days she did not like to think on.

The plates were set out at the right places, only her own was empty. She considered her choices, both the cold from the fridge and warmed up from the microwave.

"Hey Maggie," Detective Maza said, walking into the room.

"Detective," Maggie greeted, nodding her head while rolling her plate in her claws. The beautiful woman looked over the meals set out and gave her a smile.

"Want to go say hello?" she asked. It was habit, as was Maggie's refusal.

She could hear them awaken, and the murmur of the first conversation, and was waiting as she always tried to do at the base of the exist stairs as the clan entered.

In the past, they picked out their meal themselves or waited until later. But Maggie had one day decided to save them the hassle to have a breakfast of sorts ready. Their time awake was strictly limited, it should not be wasted. Besides, it wasn't the first time she rose early to prepare someone else's breakfast.

Only once everyone was clearly pleased with their own breakfast did she fix her first and only meal of real food for the day. All the naps added up, and the stuffing with lousy food was prepped. With this best meal in the company of others, she was ready to resume living under the assurance of night.

And then she would spend the night in the tower with whoever remained as guard. Usually Hudson. It was a routine she had fallen into quickly, after having her life upended anything like normalcy was welcome she found.

The tower wasn't exactly a space to clean up, so typically when she wasn't just enjoying having company she would ask questions about the gargoyles. Learning about these strange but noble beings she found herself among at a casual pace.

All welcome distractions from the fact they had failed to save the other hostages because of her. Such thoughts were for the daytime.

It was funny how quickly you could come to dread sunrise, of all things.

 **X X X**

Goliath had expected the offer of learning to glide to be an awkward thing. A reminder of the humanity lost. At best, sullen acceptance shrouded in one of Maggie's dark moods was what he expected.

He had not expected her to light up at the idea. She had been off on her own in a corner of the tower left mostly vacant, the few boxes of stored items set aside. Making sparks with her hands, trying to find out how her electrical power worked. Her claim was, to ensure it would not be used so fatally again she would need to understand it.

Judging by the way she frowned at her hands, her progress was slow. Still, he was pleased she had given herself a project. It would not do for her to fall into idleness, and she had had time to recover from her ordeal to some degree.

When he gave the question she had been shocked, then thrilled. Even hugging him for a moment. She broke from the embrace before he could decide how to respond. Judging by her cough in her claw and refusing to meet his eyes after, she wanted to pretend that had not happened herself.

"Finally, something good from this! Flying!"

"Gliding. Riding winds and updrafts," he corrected. She nodded but seemed to not really hear him. Just as well; it was blessing enough that she was eager to learn something that would open up the world to her.

 **X X X**

Having gained her consent, the next problem was how. No gargoyle could take to the air properly the first time. And despite their size, he was not sure if human science had remade her right to actually use them.

At Wyvern, they had an area of stones set aside to tech the young to fly in relative safety. Hudson and the elders had joked how in their nights, the adults had just thrown the young off the cliffs and hoped for the best.

He needed a proving ground for Maggie to learn. Somewhere with the needed open space but elevation at hand. Also deserted. Not just by the public; he wanted to avoid any criminal element in this. Brooklyn had suggested this site. And while it did meet the requirements, Goliath was not exactly pleased.

"A garbage dump?" Goliath asked. They were flying low over the rotting landscape. Nothing as clean as a scrapyard, this place.

"Hey, this place doesn't even have a guard dog. I asked Elisa to check it out; apparently this is filled to capacity or some quota thing, and in a few weeks it's going to be cleared out for incineration before the city starts filling it up again or something. Point is, until then, nobody and no one cares for the place. I think even the homeless would avoid it," Brooklyn said as they landed atop one of the hills of junk. The footing was unstable, giving way somewhat under Goliath's weight.

"Hmm, good points. Still…" Goliath commented.

"Well Goliath, short of hopping a train with Maggie upstate to train old school in the country, this may be the best we can do. Unless you want her roof hopping?"

It was a legitimate question. Was it better to just use the rooftops? More convenient, yes. But riskier, with unforgiving pavement and the risk of encountering humans at a time one of the clan was learning and vulnerable.

"This will do."

 **X X X  
**

Maggie had pictured something when day dreaming during the day about flying. It had preoccupied her around trying to satisfy her appetite without emptying the fridge, her time on the toilet, and trying to sleep through another series of cramps in her face. And of course, the ongoing struggle to throw thunderbolts from her hands like a Greek goddess.

What exactly she had pictured, she could not quite recall now. But it had surely been glorious, riding on the winds with some kind of majesty. It had not involved a stench that made her nostrils feel like she was snorting jalapeño juice on a high school bet, again.

She stood with Goliath on a small hill of trash, with a smaller hill across from it. Brooklyn was down between the hills, dragging another stained mattress into the valley. Apparently there was a whole pile of the things nearby, for some reason.

She really did not want end up on a mattress that had been filthy before being dumped, in all likelihood.

Goliath cleared his throat for her attention.

She listened to the lesson on gliding, nodding her head. Okay then. Best get this down quick so she could leave this stinky place and never come back.

 _Later That Night:_

Maggie sat in the basin, scrubbing her chest with the sponge.

"That bad, lass?" Hudson said from out of sight.

"Well at least we got to the point she was either landing on the mattresses or crashing into the right hill. So, progress." That was Brooklyn. His support was noted and appreciated, and infuriating in the face of failure. Maggie scrubbed her armpits furiously, wrinkling her nose.

"Perhaps despite the growth, she still can't glide. She was not shaped by nature to live like this. The human design imposed on her could be flawed for what they intended." Goliath, honestly pragmatic. Appreciated.

"Ah, don't give up so soon. I never knew a youngster to master gliding after only one night of trying."

She tuned them out to shiver. The water didn't even fill up the basin she squatted in. The water from the sink had barely been warm to start with, and now her fur clung wet and heavy. And she could practically feel something caked to her back.

"Maggie?" Detective Maza called. Maggie looked up in surprise and covered her chest with both arms. The detective was out of sight behind the privacy-ensuring bit of brick work, save for a waving hand and sleeve of her red jacket.

"Come on," Maggie sighed. The cop came into sight and gave her an appraising look.

"Well, if I didn't know the night went bad, that expression would tell me. You hurt?"

"Only my pride. It's the stench that's the problem. And the fur! I'm never going to get dry," she griped.

In the end, the detective scrubbed her back and ended up assuring her the stink was only in her head now. Any comfort was lost when a thoughtless moment left her showing her bare front to the detective getting out of the tub.

Idiot, Maggie reprimanded herself.

 **X X X**

A fourth night of failure. And it was going to be the last, she realized. Even Brooklyn was no longer offering reassurances. All she had learned was how to descend rapidly in the right direction. And if Brooklyn tried to spin that as an achievement again, she would slap him right in the beak.

"Maggie, wait!" Brooklyn called as she got up from the mattresses to storm off into the dump. She heard him clearly coming up behind her. Turning to show him a one-eyed glare, she growled, showing her fangs. Any scandal at a display was forgotten in the simple satisfaction of him backing down.

Satisfaction was fleeting, of course. Even with yet another dress ruined, she was not going to make it worse by sitting down, and now she walked in circles, certain there were baby diapers rotting nearby.

"Wings! What a joke! All you do is make it hard to wear clothes and get caught on things! You hurt me!" she yelled at the appendages, grabbing one. Only to release it as her tension made it snap back and up again.

"Ugh! You aren't even obedient! At least the tail sometimes gets out of the way!"

Stopping in place, she continued to rant, practically seeing red. This was supposed to make up at least a little for everything. That being too much of a freak to walk the streets, she could at least be enough of a freak to enjoy the sky. To not be trapped in the tower. Trading having nowhere to come home to for becoming a shut-in dependent on others to so much as leave.

"Useless," she whispered furiously, looking at her claw-tipped hands. Bunching them into fists, relishing the feel of the claws digging into her palm. She repeated the word through clenched teeth.

"Maggie?" Brooklyn called.

A wind was kicking up, wafting the stench from her, but she didn't care.

"WHY CAN'T I DO ANYTHING?!" she screamed, hunching and kicking wildly.

Her foot did not connect with trash. Or anything.

Opening her eyes, she saw Goliath and Brooklyn standing shocked. She looked down on them and that wind.

She was off the ground, and her wings were beating, lifting her up into the air and sending loose trash tumbling away.

The wings missed a beat and she fell to the ground, pain going through her bottom.

"Ouch!" Maggie cried out.

"It seems you are no glider," Goliath said. The gargoyle was smiling as Maggie looked up from her spot. Brooklyn was too as he offered her a hand.

"You can fly, actually fly! That's awesome, Maggie," her told her. Maggie looked to both sides, flexing her wings.

"Where are the mattresses? I need to try that again," she said

 **X X X**

Flap, glide. Flap, glide. Glide, glide, glide, FLAP. Maggie thought as she made her way back toward the tower.

"Almost," she muttered. Goliath was beside her, ready to intervene. The others were waiting with some space cleared under the clock face.

A final push made sure she cleared the railing, and then the wings adjusting to let her feet get under her, aaaand… Five steps to land and halt.

"Whew!" she breathed out.

"Safe!" Broadway declared, throwing out his arms like an umpire. There were other congratulations, and she answered and nodded but turned back around to watch as Goliath circled and came in.

"Well done, Maggie," he said, landing easily on the stone work.

"The landing needs work," she pointed out.

"It will come in time," he said, simply stepping down. The others went in, discussing something of crime in the city. Maggie hung back, taking a deep breath and turning to look back out over New York.

She spotted the building Goliath had taken her to for the final test. Under other circumstances, she might have seen it as nearby. But she had crossed that expanse on air and wind. She remembered learning to drive and the satisfaction of getting a license. That was nothing to this. If she could remember learning to walk, maybe it would compare.

Elbows resting on the stone, keen feline eyes looked over the city as an actual smile made its way to her lips. No one was around to hear a deep purr make its way up from her throat.

 **X X X**

The Eyrie Building. She had read about it and been amazed, like most people. That was the only reason she had ever heard of David Xanatos, honestly. A man not only rich enough to build a skyscraper that dominated not only Manhattan but the entire New York skyline, but had a real castle carried piece by piece across the sea to crown his tower. And it was a crowning.

One thing she remembered from the article was that with this castle looking down on the city and the powerful man making it his primary residence, it was a proclamation that David Xanatos considered himself king over all he could see from his castle.

Considering what he seemed able to get away with and could do, she had decided the mayor and anything else in this city was effectively nothing more than a minor annoyance compared to the king above the clouds that was Xanatos. Though more a devil than king, it seemed.

And now the gargoyles were going to challenge him in his home. Because there was reason to think the other victims of Gen-U-Tech were there now. Because they had decided it past time to demand answers regarding Derek Maza's disappearance. And perhaps it was the fact that they were frustrated that the enemy who had effectively driven them from their home was committing atrocities that struck close to home, and remained untouchable.

And now that she could fly, she could be left behind with a means to escape should the enemy have tracked them to their home.

They wanted answers more than a battle. But, battle was to be expected.

She had been told to remain here. It had been five minutes since they left, she checked the clock from her place on the couch.

They fought criminals. She knew it. Had learned truths behind legends. And even had stories of battle recounted to her, both from the olden days and right here in Manhattan. But none of them mentioned this. They had gone and, despite unspoken assurances, there was no guarantee. No guarantee they would be back.

Bronx followed her, giving a somewhat worried sound as she made her way out of the tower.

Was it really the same cityscape she had looked out upon, fevered and fearful? There was still fear, but it was not the burning sensation invading and ravaging flesh and mind. Clouding everything only to bring horrid clarity. This fear was cold. It spread out from a chunk of ice in her chest that spread out slowly but unstoppable. But it was clear. And she knew what words were etched on that piece of ice.

"Bronx. I need to go."

He did not object, and she almost thought she saw approval in the set of his jaw as she climbed onto the railing.

They were right, she wasn't ready. But she had to go anyway. Flapping her wings, Maggie took flight, setting her heading toward the tower of lights that dominated the skyline.

 **X X X**

She had not been flying for long at all. She would not call herself an expert. But this building was ridiculous when it came to flying! There were updrafts to catch, but they were not easy. It wasn't a question of grabbing a few yards.

She was ready to curse David Xanatos for making something so big! And that was before she looked down. Mistake. Her wings missed their beats, and she dropped.

"Ahaah!" she cried out, before catching her descent and flapping rapidly. Another updraft, spread wings to catch it. She was flapping now, her back and sides burning a bit.

There was only wind beneath her, and above her more air.

The gargoyles could potentially climb, but her claws were not super strong. She was sure if she tried that trick they would break, along with maybe her fingers.

She was out of her depth, her height maybe? Elevation. She growled at being stuck on words in her own head, willing focus as she went higher.

There was an urge to descend. To find the roof and rest. To just go back to the tower. After all, what if she made it up there only to find herself in the way?

But there was another part. That same part that, despite well meaning and scornful warning, had come to this city anyway. A part that even now did not regret trying to pursue a dream, even if it turned out be dust scattered on the city winds. The same part that had dared to go with monsters unknown to escape the people who had proven to be monsters.

With silence, Maggie fixed her eyes on the distant tower top and beat her wings in the updraft, propelling herself higher.

 **X X X**

Maggie looked up at the castle foundations. Despite the sweat dripping through her clenched hands, her heavy breathing, and the wet chill on her feet, she marveled at the sight.

She wondered if people in that grand gallery could ever truly be at ease with that castle visibly suspended above them. Sure, it might be no more and a lot less than the danger of standing on the first floor of any skyscraper, but those rarely flaunted the sheer weight above your head.

She was close enough to see her reflection as she passed the last of the plexiglass or whatever. Even without the distortion, she was sure she would, as the last times, simply find little of herself to be seen. The stone staring back at her was a welcome sight. Imminent relief.

They had called it the curtain wall. Or just the outer wall. Sometimes just "the wall", with specifications for lesser walls instead. Cresting it and flying over, Maggie landed ungingerly and ended up falling to her hands and knees, panting.

"That… was… dumb," she told herself. Hair had fallen into her face, but she could not bother to move it aside. Her body felt like it was sizzling in… places. Too hot, too sore in muscles exerted beyond what they commanded. Panting, she let herself slide down onto her stomach. Through the dress and fur, she felt the cold stone.

Spreading out, trying to drink up the soothing cool, she lost track of one moment to the next until sounds intruded. Growing closer or her hearing was kicking in after the ordeal had silenced it, she wasn't sure. But there were roars and a sound like thunder.

Despite protests across her back, torso, and wings, Maggie pushed herself up to kneel, and then to her feet. Bracing herself on the parapets, she looked out over the courtyards of the castle. The night meant little to her eyes, and revealed battle.

Not what she had expected, she realized in shock. Humans with guns were absent. The other test subjects were fighting the gargoyles.

Three to five should have been favoring the gargoyles. With one of those five being Goliath, it should have been over before she arrived. Then she watched Goliath, who seemed to be trying to speak to a panther mutant, be shocked with visible currents of electricity.

"Goliath!" Maggie called out in shock.

She saw him catch himself into a glide and sighed in relief.

"You!" a deep voice called out. Her eyes snapped over and she screamed as the panther man flew towards her like a shot. Stumbling back, she was relieved he landed a few feet to her left rather than barreling into her.

He was covered in fur, feline, with some jutting from his face a bit like sideburns. And he was huge, wings spread menacingly as he bared teeth. Maggie felt weak in her knees, turning to face him with a hand raised as if to ward him off.

"Reed, you killed the doctor," he accused her. Maggie swallowed, trying to think. The words just came instead.

"He hurt me. Us!" she managed. His scowl deepened and he took a step forward. Maggie glanced around and realized most of the walkway was behind him. No stairs down that she could she on her path. It terminated at a tower with a closed door. Probably very locked and solid.

"Imbecile! He was our best chance at a cure! I only needed a few more seconds and I would be human! I would have my life! Instead, you murdered him. You and those monsters!" he growled. Maggie retreated before his advance and found herself back against the tower.

She glanced to the courtyard; her wings, even screaming from the ascension, could probably make that doable. But her eyes went to his wings. He had been flying against gargoyles and didn't seem tired. He'd have her before she was halfway to the ground.

"We… we came to rescue you!" she pleaded.

"Rescue?! You doomed us, murderer!" he roared, lightning filling his fists.

Maggie turned her back and grabbed the wall. Her claws couldn't break stone, but they did find grips and her feet followed suit. She almost slipped but, hair on end, she climbed away from the threat.

A hard grip closed on her tail and yanked. She had not gotten far, but she laded on her wings.

"Aghhh!" Maggie cried out in pain.

The panther was standing over her, she saw, blinking. Weeping, she raised her hands to protect her face.

"Please!" she begged. He froze. Stepping back, he shook his head.

"What, no! This isn't… Damn it!" he cursed.

A thunderous roar erupted, and Goliath slammed into her attacker, knocking him against the outer parapet. Standing up, Goliath gave her a look that was far from pleasant, but nothing to the glare he turned on the panther man when he pulled himself up.

"Your fight is with me, if we must fight. Not another victim of Xanatos' schemes."

"Xanatos' schemes. You're as obsessive as he said. All you can do is blame on your prejudices with no thought beyond it."

Goliath scowled and took a stance between Maggie and the panther man. The cat man bared his fangs; Maggie retreated another two steps at the sight.

"You claim to have a sense of justice. That one's a murderer, yet she's not in cuffs and you're protecting her from justice."

"She's a victim. As are you," Goliath answered sternly.

"I wouldn't be if-!" the panther man said, advancing on Goliath, fangs catching the light.

"Freeze!" Detective Maza shouted. Maggie saw her poised at the top of the staircase leading down to the courtyard, gun drawn and leveled at the panther man's back.

The panther man grimaced, then seemed to give a bitter chuckle before turning to face the detective.

"Don't do anything stupid. I get the feeling you're a victim here too, pal. But this fighting needs to stop," Detective Maza ordered.

With a clear chuckle, he spread his hands and the detective lowered her gun but didn't holster it.

"They're the trespassers, officer?" he made it a question. The detective pulled out her badge; Maggie couldn't tell if he reacted, his back to her now.

"No reason to try and kill them… can I get a name?" she asked.

"Call me… Talon," he said, seeming to look at his claws.

'You're not a bird,' Maggie thought, recalling that bit of science class trivia somehow.

"Well, Talon, can't we settle this peacefully?"

"I doubt it. It's because of her and them my life is ruined! This is not your problem," he demanded.

"First of all, I'm a cop, so yeah it is. And I know Goliath, he would never harm an innocent, and the girl there, she's a battered woman. She needs help. And I'm thinking you need help too, Talon. So why don't I put my gun away and we try and figure out where everyone is coming from?"

Talon glanced back to Goliath, who was not poised to attack now but had not backed down putting Maggie partly out of Talon's sight with his wings.

"Promise?" Talon asked.

"Cross my heart," the detective said. She made a sign over her heart.

"Hope to die," Talon answered.

"Derek, is that you?!" the detective cried out.

"No!" Talon shouted, staggering as if struck.

"It is you! Xanatos did this to you, didn't he?" Detective Maza said. Maggie stepped up next to Goliath, who seemed stunned at the revelation. Maggie stared as the menacing panther man practically went to his knees, wings enfolding him as if hiding from the woman, who was so small next to him, pressing close.

"No, he's trying to help me!" Talon, Derek, insisted. He sounded desperate, and Maggie felt a twinge of worry as Elisa got closer, even touching his wings as she tried to come face-to-face with the man trying to avoid facing her.

"Can't you see he's using you? He's been using you from the beginning. Why can't you see that!?" the detective carried on.

"NO!" Talon roared. Electricity surged from his shoulders over his wings as he finally stood up straight again. Elisa cried out, falling back onto the floor from the shock as he whirled on her.

Maggie could see both their faces this time. Elisa's face marred by pain and wide-eyed with shock as her brother loomed over her. And Derek's rage vanished as quick as Maggie saw it, replaced with shock surpassing his sister's as he realized what had happened.

"Elisa? I-" he said meekly. He took a step toward his sister, who raised an arm up as if afraid of an attack. She pulled it down as quick, but the gesture was clear, and the mutate recoiled as if struck.

He tried to say something, but stopped abruptly, throwing his head back and screaming at the top of his lungs as if in agony. Then he was gone, sprinting to the edge of the wall and taking flight, diving out of sight. His fellows seemed to have been watching or took that sound as a signal, two other winged figures following after him only seconds later.

 **X X X**

There was no more fighting. It was as if Derek Maza's fleeing had been a whistle blown in a game. Perhaps the others retreated in response, or Xanatos called them off. For the gargoyles, she later guessed it was Elisa's screams of pain that drew them. But it was over. The charge in the air, the tension, it was all replaced by exhaustion. Or perhaps that was just her?

"What a dreadful turn of events," Xanatos said. She saw him standing in the now open doorway. He did not come through it as Goliath helped Elisa stand.

"Xanatos," Elisa managed to say. Maggie looked at the woman in awe. She had been shocked by that current and faced with a horrific truth. But she was facing this man like she was ready for battle.

"You've gone too far this time, Xanatos. Now, it's war. Whatever it takes, however long it takes, you are going down," Detective Maza declared. It was a declaration of war, Maggie realized. And the man did not answer as the woman proudly if furiously strode away, reaching one of the staircases and descending.

Maggie was amazed Elisa left on her own, entering Xanatos' castle atop his tower. It would be so much safer to be carried off by the Gargoyles. In the same statement she declared war, she showed her contempt for her foe in his own castle.

"This is far from over," Goliath promised, drawing Maggie's attention away from the detective's departure. She could have sworn the man's lip twitched as if a smile was hiding behind his solemn expression.

"Of course, until next time, Goliath. But I have a question. Is Miss Reed with you then?" he asked, looking to her. Xanatos was a handsome man, well attired in dark fine clothes and impeccably groomed. Power and respectability rolled off him in a way politicians could only dream of.

He reminded her of the doctor's charming persona in the alley. Maggie moved back and away from him, putting the trio between her and him and next to Hudson.

Xanatos seemed to take that as an answer and closed the door.

"We're heading back," Goliath declared.

"Lass, are you good to fly back?" Hudson asked. She considered lying, feeling a fool for coming here in the first place. And feeling like a peeping tom for having witnessed what she had. But her wings were still so sore, she was certain needing to be rescued twice would only make things worse.

"No," she replied simply, her ears dropping a bit.

Goliath carried her. She did not pass out. But she felt drained. The familiarity of being held by the gargoyle was welcome.

"It was foolish to come like you did," he told her as they glided over the city.

"I know," she admitted. Her excuses and reasons… she didn't feel like speaking them would mean anything.

"Why did you disobey?" he asked.

"…I was afraid none of you would make it back," she admitted. It was foolish, they were amazing. What was she compared to that? As if she would be anything but the distracting burden she was.

"You will need to be trained if you are to protect. You are not a gargoyle or a human. What you can and can't do will have to be measured and you will have to learn to use it," Goliath stated.

Maggie was stunned. What he meant was obvious, but also absurd. What would even be the point?

"…I am in trouble, right?" she asked as they reached the tower.

"Yes. But time for that later," he answered. Maggie watched him go in puzzlement, and after a few moment's hesitation followed him into the tower.

 **X X X**

Goliath stood on a walkway in an upper level of the tower. Elisa was on the next level below, partially hidden from sight by the staircase, weeping openly on the straw.

He had known something was coming. He had chosen to delay any reprimand for Maggie's recklessness for that reason.

For all their frustrating conflict, it was clear as a cloudless night that Elisa cared for her brother. Searching for answers, she had stayed strong and focused. But now the answers had been revealed as a curse. He had never seen her weep like this. She was a warrior as much as any gargoyle or human he had ever known. And like all of them, she was vulnerable.

That it was their home she fled to when she had no choice but to let her armor fell away… It was humbling, a reminder of the bond shared, and he could perhaps feel it deepening for the unspoken truth here. It reminded him of his rage and grief on the cliffs of Scotland. When revenge was denied him and he was left with only grief, with no rage to push it away any longer.

And what of Derek, he wondered, closing his eyes and tightening his grip slightly on the railing. Xanatos had manipulated Elisa's brother's flesh and now played with his very mind. Without Elisa to open his own eyes, Goliath wondered how long he would have danced to Xanatos' deceptions. He had no doubt that if he could, Xanatos would turn Derek and the others into his pawns. Turning brother against sister in earnest.

Demona rose in his thoughts, and he looked to the clan. Once he had trusted her as much as any of them. Had loved her more than any other. And yet that did not stop her from becoming his enemy. He would not have Elisa suffer the pain of losing one you cared for so utterly. But what could he do?

"Maggie?" Brooklyn said softly.

Goliath turned from his thoughts and looked back to Elisa. The mutant, as they called the woman, descended the staircase Elisa was under. Hesitantly, but then steadily. Shoulders slumped and ears drooping, she came around and knelt by Elisa, who was facing away, shoulders shaking.

If not for wanting to preserve the silence to let Elisa mourn the situation, he would warn Maggie away. But he watched instead as she laid a hand on Elisa's back. He could not tell if she only placed it there or rubbed it slightly, but it made Elisa glance back at the one to touch her.

Maggie said nothing, and didn't smile. She was shedding her own tears silently, Goliath realized. She gave Elisa a nod. Such a simple thing, yet it seemed to calm Elisa some.

Pulling her hand back, Maggie rose and walked downward, presumably to her bed or perhaps seeking her own solitude on the lower levels.

Elisa did not leave until after the sun rose. Save for the clock, the tower remained silent until dawn.

 **X X X**

David Xanatos sat behind his desk, looking out over the city spread below him.

So many things lost their luster once they became commonplace. For eons, flight was the great dream of humanity. Yet here they were, not even a century after the Wright Brothers made that dream come true, and air travel was regarded mundanely. The wondrous dream treated as a mere utility of getting people and things from place to place. While he made a point to appreciate such things, having risen so high he had to admit so much did not live up to the legends.

This commanding view did, though. This window wall, or any view that reminded him of what exactly he had made this castle into. In awe of the sight, of the sheer wonder of the city and the tower on which he stood. And in appreciation of himself, the one who wielded the power to claim what was once empty air and create this.

He heard Owen enter, of course. Owen could be quite sneaky, even to his ears, but ever the professional Owen made no such effort when there was no need.

"May I present the new genetics liaison," the blonde man said. Xanatos smiled at the blonde bespectacled woman in the white jacket. Fairly attractive, but a habitual frown detracted from it. She wore a blue turtleneck and khaki pants, practical enough attire. Though he thought this was the first time he had seen her outside lab attire in person.

The blue eyes were easily her best feature. Piercing summed them up nicely. It had always been gratifying to brush off that glare that made so many other people squirm.

"Come now, Owen, surely we need not be so formal with an acquaintance? Dr. Cranley, I am so pleased you agreed to return to the employ of Xanatos Enterprises," Xanatos said, standing up behind his desk and offering a handshake. She looked at the hand and then looked back to his face, crossing her arms under her chest.

"You act as if I left of my own volition. You set me aside when I gave you the honest answer you did not want to hear," she reminded him.

"Two points, doctor. Firstly, I did not fire you, I offered you a different position, one which would still have allowed you opportunities. It was your choice to see insult in pragmatic generosity. Secondly, the reason for the first is you told me that Project Legacy could not move from theory to practice because it would be, what was it? At least fifteen to twenty years before the technology to begin even embryonic alterations would be feasible? A fair answer. But when I sought a second opinion, Dr. Sevarius told me with him at the helm he would surpass embryonic work before the dawn of the 21st century," Xanatos outlined calmly.

"And I am sure he said that with all the humility and scientific dignity of Walt Disney," Cranley snarked.

"The point is that it was no mark against you what happened back then, Doctor. And I must point out that is all in the past. With Anton's tragic demise, you are the best and perhaps only choice to carry on the good work. After all, Sevarius left quite the legacy, to move up those dates you concluded."

With the click of a button on his desk, the TV in the wall turned on and played footage of Derek in flight.

Cranley had seen the files, of course. Including the ones Derek and the others never would. But seeing this new reality in motion was quite another thing.

"Magnificent," the doctor muttered, lifting one hand as if to touch the screen. He was reminded of Goliath's own first reaction, oddly enough. "A magic tapestry"; ahh, nothing like a fresh set of eyes to make one truly appreciate the marvels of this age, Xanatos thought.

Still, seeing Cranley's eyes soften at the sight of the mutated human was unexpected. As much as Sevarius loved drama like a hammy Frankenstein, she had always seemed to try and be a Vulcan or such. This reaction from Cranley… it bore watching, but seemed to pose no problem.

"He has taken quite readily to his new form. But then, he was the first prime specimen," Xanatos remarked, turning the monitor off.

"And he has escaped. Along with two other specimens," she pointed out, all business again.

"Nothing to worry about. Derek, or Talon as he is calling himself, knows I am his best hope for a cure. As for the other two, where would they go, assuming they didn't share his outlook?" Xanatos remarked.

"And the first successful test subject? Maggie Reed?" she pressed.

"An unfortunate loss, but quite acceptable. While Sevarius' notes would give a cipher migraines, we can replicate his serum. You will not lack for test subjects for your renewed Legacy Project," Xanatos assured her.

She lacked the background to so require his protection, as Anton had. But willfully isolated and mostly dismissed from the mainstream of science for her lack of actual concrete achievements or viable theories, she was still brilliant. And her passion would bind her to him as money and ego had Anton.

Yes, Anton had rolled the dice on his setup for a fake death, and lost. Maggie Reed had turned out to be a spanner neither Anton nor Xanatos himself had seen coming. He had been more wary of Derek, honestly — for all he had been certain the young man was well analyzed, he was Detective Maza's brother. And that was one woman he had learned to never underestimate.

But as Dr. Cranley made her dry set of demands and requirements, Xanatos smiled. After all, the unexpected was another one of things that never ceased to amuse him. Failure was only an opportunity awaiting the proper perspective to exploit.

* * *

 **Author's Note:  
**

 _Well that's it for prewritten chapters. No idea how long the next one will take. At least we got to reach a nice cut off point? Hope it was enjoyable and to see you soon over at D & H._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Disney's Gargoyles.

 _Betaed by:_ Zim'smostloyalservant and Trackula.

* * *

Chapter 4

 **Adjustments**

'It just never ends,' Maggie thought, 'I really am going to spend the rest of my life paying for my mistakes.'

"It looks alright," Elisa said. Maggie held the compact mirror Elisa had given her, looking at her new face. She started to scowl at the lie. But it turned into a grimace as pain shot across the lower half of the face.

And it was "the face", not "her face" anymore, wasn't it? She had hated that mutated face, but at least there had been traces of her there under the fur. Now the shape of the skull, the nose, the eyes — it was all feline, if a different kind.

Maybe it looked… cleaner, somehow. Completely one thing rather than a mix of two things that shouldn't be. Completely one thing, that was not her.

Watching her ears droop as no human's could, Maggie stared at the otherworldly stranger in the tiny mirror as they started back with golden eyes.

 **X X X**

Brooklyn watched Maggie stare at her new face, feeling helpless. The face was the biggest change, though altogether she looked more… solid, maybe? Less human, certainly, but maybe it was that she was more stable now? Like a teen maturing from gangly to adult?

Maggie, for her part, did not look happy, probing her feline face with her fingertips.

"I don't see even a little of me in this anymore," she said.

"Even the hair?" Lexington asked. Broadway gave him a light smack. Maggie just closed the mirror and handed it back without a word.

They had all been worried when they woke to find her having a seizure near the shredded remains of her mattress. Judging by scorch marks on the stone, she had even discharged those lightning bolts at some point.

The fact she was quite awake for it all had made it worse.

When Brooklyn had pulled her hands from her face, he had been shocked at the change. More so when she glomped onto him, crying out. He could swear he actually heard bones moving in her head, like ice breaking under sightly under too much weight. It had to have been his imagination. He wasn't accepting other opinions on that.

They had kept watch on her, and now as dawn approached, it seemed to have passed. Her eyes were bloodshot from the ordeal and crying; apparently it had started early in the day. They had been just outside, but may as well have been back in Scotland for all the good they could do her.

Frankly, he wished Dr. Sevarius was alive so he could trash the monster for putting people through this. Because even dead, he was still hurting Maggie!

"What if it isn't done?" she asked. Her gravelly voice was drawn with pain, each word clearly a strain.

"Whaddya mean?" Broadway asked.

"I mean, what, what if I just keep changing? Until… until I'm nothing but some cat with wings? And I can't even talk? Or think?!" Maggie practically shrieked, only to grab her face.

Elisa was there beside her, easing her back into the chair and reaching under her mane to rub the mutated human's neck. It seemed to work, slowing her breathing, but her eyes were still staring out, shining with panic.

"If it does come to that. You will still have a place here," Goliath declared, "And as long as there is any hope to see you restored, we will never cease watching for it."

Brooklyn knew it was stupid beyond belief. But he felt a burning tightness in his chest seeing the way Maggie took in Goliath's words, her eyes returning to something like normal as she looked at his leader. Why couldn't he have said something like that?

Hudson took over for Elisa, not rubbing anything but sharing the couch, giving Maggie space. Then it was time to make a brief patrol, the crisis resolved to Goliath's satisfaction.

Hanging back a moment before taking to the air, Brooklyn watched Goliath soar off. Competition, yeah right. It would be like an amateur figure skater going against one of those hockey pros Hudson liked to watch knock each other around.

"Well, can't blame her, can I?" he muttered to himself bitterly.

 **X X X**

Maggie and Goliath stood in the tower. Save for Bronx, the others had left. Her latest change had delayed it, but Goliath was not accepting further delays. It was time she learned to fight.

Standing before the massive gargoyle, she suppressed a gulp at the thought. Maybe she could try with Lexington to start with, she thought?

"A gargoyle can no more stop protecting the castle than breathing the air," Goliath said, "Those words were taught to me by Hudson. They represent the creed by which this clan lives, by which once all Gargoyles were guided. Humans can fight for many reasons. Good reasons, bad reasons, and even unfathomable reasons. But for a gargoyle, the first and most important thing we fight for is to protect."

Maggie listened, a bit puzzled. He must be using the "we" to refer to his clan. Yes, their house, so their rules would apply to her.

"I once mistook those words to apply to the castle itself. I risked endangering my clan by giving too much importance to a place. It was… a hard lesson. We do not take to the skies of Manhattan idly. We do so because there are always those in need of aid. And our words also decree it is the duty of the strong to aid the weak. Gargoyle or human, strength is a responsibility, not a privilege. If we can help, we must. Anything less is to betray what we are."

"They don't know that. They fear you," Maggie couldn't help but interrupt.

"They always have," he answered. There was something in that short answer. But even ears perked, she was not sure what. Bitterness. Resignation? Weariness. Acceptance?

He walked off and she followed as he continued to talk.

"Even in times when humans knew we existed and accepted that as fact, they typically distrusted us. Many hated us. I used to wonder, why? What had we ever done to them but keep our oaths even as they sought any excuse to shirk theirs? Had we ever been more cruel or callous to them than they are to each other? Could they truly never see that it in nearly every instance it was the evil intentions of their own kind that we fought to protect them from? Yet they saw those enemies as somehow more acceptable than us. Perhaps it was how we looked. So different, yet similar. Maybe it was our strength, so much greater than theirs. Or perhaps our stone sleep, which they reject as being part of the natural world for its rarity? I do not think there is an answer to satisfy such questions. And I eventually realized it didn't matter."

Together, they walked outside to look over the city. The night was overcast, but the lights of the city were beautiful, and Maggie took in the sounds, including the distant buzz of the pedestrians, in as a calming white noise.

"We protect. It is not our place to casually weigh who is worthy or why. If you look for such reasons, you will soon find them and soon you will be able to twist it to your own selfish desires. Every life is precious, Maggie. The Viking, Haakon. I could have easily killed him, and no human either friend or foe would have thought twice of it. But in that moment, he was helpless before me, his death would not have been a necessity. It would have been a choice. My choosing to end a life because I wanted to."

"…Even after what he did?"

Goliath closed his eyes and scowled, shoulders tightening under his wing cloak. Maggie felt an absurd desire to stroke his arm, or anything to comfort the gargoyle from her callous question.

"If I knew then what he would do… Perhaps. But had I known that then, there would have been other actions I could have taken, wouldn't there? I would still have been killing him because it was what I wanted. I would have killed him to avenge the clan, that night on the cliffs. To avenge my… Angel of the Night. For what he had done had gone beyond what I could forgive. But vengeance, justice in blood, even when righteous becomes a poison if you hold onto hatred. Demona, she is nothing like the gargoyle I once knew. In many ways, she is no gargoyle. She protects nothing. She destroys and kills instead. What she did, Maggie, she betrayed the humans of Wyvern, and in turn her betrayal destroyed the very thing she claimed she wanted to protect. And now, she is the very monster haunting the night that the humans believed us to be."

Goliath pointed out to the city, and she took it in, her eyes seeing so clearly through the night that the bright lights were more an obstruction than the darkness.

"These people here and now need help. They need protection, in some ways more than ever. Threats and foes like I could never imagine in Scotland plague the innocents of this city. And the police try, but still fall short to protect these people. So we do what we can. Not because it is easy. Or because it will be appreciated by those we protect. But because it is right. And someone has to start, Maggie. As hatred and violence beget still more hatred and violence, someone has to begin a new cycle. Someone has to do the right things because it is the right thing to do. No one can follow a path unless someone first goes ahead to clear it. Giving up is not an option. Because as many times as the right thing can be repaid wth scorn and apathy, if we give in that ensures only that those we can help will suffer for our inaction."

"…" Maggie took it in. Was she supposed to say something?

"Was that too much? I have been reading a lot of new books lately," Goliath asked, giving a small smile.

"Philosophy?" she asked.

"Some."

"I prefer scripts," Maggie said.

"Television?" Goliath asked. Maggie's eye twitched and she stomped her foot.

"No! Plays! Real scripts. The kind where you can't just cut and redo a scene and stitch together the best takes and act like you put on a good production," Maggie protested.

"Not a fan of the new media, I take it?" Goliath noted. Maggie huffed.

"I don't mind it. What I don't like is it getting all the attention. Besides, what TV show can compare to Shakespeare?" she demanded.

"Ah yes, I've heard him mentioned a time or two."

Goliath had meant his feigned ignorance of Shakespeare as a joke. Maggie did not take it as such. The feline woman proceeded to give him a quick summary of the English playwright and then name off his great plays. Her favorites, Macbeth snd Midsummer Night's Dream, she actually quoted from the script some, assuming a bit of the character.

It was… surprising. Goliath had completely lost control of the situation.

And it was a good thing, he thought, smiling as she recited Puck's closing lines as if addressing an audience. Aside from need, he had also hoped training would draw her out of the state of depression she seemed to linger in so often. He had stumbled across her passion now, and seeing her so animated, it was worth a wasted training session.

 _The Next Night:_

"You're sure?" she asked Goliath. They stood in a cleared space in the tower, not that it was very cluttered to begin with.

"Yes. Normally we begin training at a young age, learning what the young can do and teaching appropriately. This time, though, we must begin from nothing. Come at me with everything and anything you can. From there, we can improve technique and truly test your limits." Maggie looked Goliath up and down and admitted it was hard to see hurting 'him' as a risk.

"And after you know my limits?" she asked.

"Then the hard work begins," Goliath said with a smile. Maggie blinked.

"So, when you are ready," Goliath said, crossing his arms.

"…Um, I have never really-" Maggie trailed off. Should she run like she was trying to punch him or…?

Goliath noted this was going to be a unique experience for more than her species.

 **XXX**

Goliath watched Maggie fly off into the night from the tower. It was still a bit odd watching her fly; a human may not see it, but she stood out to gargoyle eyes, in her flight.

Satisfied she was taking a long flight, enjoying her freedom, Goliath reentered the tower. Hudson was already sitting in his chair, but turned the TV off, glancing up at Goliath.

"Maggie's gone then?" the old warrior asked.

"Yes, we can speak freely now," Goliath said, walking down the stairs. He didn't think the girl was an eavesdropper, but her hearing kept surprising the clan with her responses to conversations she was quite far from.

"Good, a student should not be privy to all their teachers' opinions," Hudson said, "So, what do I have to work with in that lass?"

"Her strength is not a gargoyle's. Far greater than a human her size, but she will not be ripping Steel Clan robots apart with her claws. Well, not without the proper grip and leverage. Part of the problem is her claws. They can't pierce stone."

"Ah, we all heard about that one. Way she was crying you almost had her break her hand," Hudson gave a sly grin at the misstep of the younger gargoyle.

"I, well, well I thought perhaps she was being held back by a human mindset. She can still climb, but it a matter of finding claw holds. Not as reliable as ours, or as quick, though speed may come with practice. It does avoid leaving a trail on walls," Goliath conceded.

"How trough is she?" Hudson asked.

"More than she probably realizes. Certainly not bullet proof, but I held back less and less with her, and she never got worse than bruises and cuts. The bone and hide under that fur, not equal to a gargoyle but more than I expected with her origins. Speed and agility seem her greatest asset. On all fours, she is faster than most gargoyles I ever knew, and unlike us she can turn and stop well, rather than just charging. Her body seems well suited to it. Perhaps Sevarius intended them to primarily move like that, standing up for battle and tasks needing hands?"

Hudson scowled, stroking his beard at the scientist's name.

"I'm glad that bastard is dead. The world is dark enough without the wicked being able to steal lives like they did to Maggie, or make armies of such creatures. Imagine the likes of the Pack with such power?" Hudson mused.

"I would rather not," Goliath stated.

"Anything else?" Hudson asked.

"Her hearing is superb. I think she can control it somehow, as it only seems to harm her briefly when loud noises are made near her. Her dark vision may be better than ours too."

"And the lightning?"

"No progress. She can't make more than sparks on command," Goliath admitted.

"I can work with that," Hudson declared, getting out of his chair.

 **X X X**

Cranley stood in the dimly lit laboratory, the lights from the various machines and panels casting the tank and the form suspended in it into sinister silhouette. Frowning, she flicked three switches, and with a whump the overhead lights came on.

"That's better," she said, taking a seat at the main terminal. Entering her password, she waited for the data to load. Turning in the swivel chair, she looked up at the subject of Project Thailog.

"Even still on the umbilical, as it were, impressive. Though I suppose for your kind, it's more a of an artificial egg than womb. Hmm," Cranley remarked.

The project was in its final stretch, as it were. Unfortunately, Sevarius was as cryptic and evasive here as elsewhere. They still hadn't broken half the encryption. But one thing they had gotten crystal clear on was the flash learning.

To take cognitive sterility, codenamed "Innocence" by the late doctor, and fill it with the data and directives you wanted. Sevarius actually admitted it was a limited process. He did not think you could make the subject more intelligent than the original, per se, but rather maximize the potential for how well that intelligence is used.

For her, that was secondary to her primary concern. While the body was, in a word, on the road to perfection, the work on the mind bothered her. Sevarius had sought maximum potential data wise, while Mr. Xanatos seemed to have used his own personal model of "the Prince" as his guide. Along with a flair for the dramatic that both seemed to think was essential in higher life forms thrown in.

She was locked out from any edits to the existing FL program by encryption, but it seemed to her the two vain men had neglected something quite vital with what may well be a sociopathic ubermensch in the oven.

"They can be as confident as they like. A smart woman knows insurance is a fine investment," Cranley remarked. Opening the relevant program, she pulled a disk out of her pocket and inserted it into the computer.

Soon enough, the icon appeared.

"The Absalom Contingency, call it a woman's touch," she said as she added it into the FL program. Opening it, she observed the MCCO.

"Authorized Users: David Xanatos, Elizabeth Cranley."

Frowning, she highlighted and hit delete.

"Authorized User: Elizabeth Cranley. Much better," she smiled, and with a few clicks, the program started to run, and she swiveled around. She watched, almost imagining she could watch her addition take root in the mind of her monster.

 **X X X**

Maggie padded around the room. Padded, a way to distinguish this from regular walking.

"How long am I supposed to do this?" she asked Hudson as she padded by him on all fours.

"Until it feels as natural as walking upright," he said plainly.

"I'm not sure that can happen," Maggie said, but kept walking, now going in a circle around Hudson.

"Perhaps, lass. But you never flew before, and ye've taken to that well enough. Compared to that, walking on four instead of two is not a great leap, I'd say. You move more natural than a gargoyle like that. Speed and balance alone are good. But it would be great for sneaking and giving enemies with guns a smaller target."

Maggie tried not to wince at the casual mention of being shot at. She had signed up for this part. No one was forcing her to fight.

"It will also be useful for intimidation," Hudson remarked. Maggie stopped and looked up at him.

"Intimidation?"

"Of course. Break the enemy's spirit at the start and you've already half won the battle. If they think they have no chance fighting they will run, and you will be in control of the fight. Some like Goliath have the presence they can strike fear into foes' hearts almost anywhere. But it's usually better to use your surroundings. Appear suddenly, eyes aglow, teeth bared, and all that. Doesn't work for everyone, especially those who have seen gargoyles before. But even hardened warriors like the Pack broke from being lured into the dark and picked off one by one. A fight is much more than just who hits hardest, lass. Or even who hits best. Victory or defeat will often hinge on who has the wisdom to best use the tools at hand. Whether that's a weapon or their surroundings.

"Now start going up and down those stairs, and leap about a bit. I don't expect you'll be sauntering into a fight like that spoiled cat of Elisa's!" he snapped once more in what Maggie termed his "director" voice.

 **X X X**

Maggie watched Elisa adjust the training dummy. The detective stepped back to stand beside Maggie, and gave a nod and small grin at her handiwork. Maggie yet again pondered how the other woman got stuff up here through a bustling police station.

"Yeah, it's old and was gathering some dust in storage, but 'Barney' here will still work for what you need," Elisa said.

"…Did someone draw a target on its groin?" Maggie asked, looking at that part of the battered dummy.

"Yes. Now then, let me give you the basics on how to take a human down for minimal effort and minimal harm to them. And then we can cover when that isn't an option. Claws in, please," Elisa joked.

 **X X X**

"Okay, let's see what we've got now," Lexington said. He clamped the AMP probe around Maggie's wrist. Still holding it by the handle, the smallest gargoyle gave Maggie a thumb's up.

Looking at the device flatly, Maggie took a deep breath, opened and closed her fist. And 'willed' the lightning to come. Scrunching up her face and tightening the strange muscles near her wings, something came loose.

Sparks flew from her palm's pad, and the nothing.

"Well, looks like you still have a built-in joy buzzer, Maggie," Lexington reported, looking at the analog reader on the device.

"Well, that will make me popular at parties," she snarked, rubbing her wrist as he took it off.

 **X X X**

"This better work, Talon," Fang called over the wind as they reached the castle. Derek did not try to answer, staying on point as the three gained altitude.

He had always planned to return to the castle, but after everything with Elisa, he had needed time. The city was simple enough to hide in; a cop knew how to look and therefore the tricks to not being seen to begin with. The next stage of the mutation had taken him off guard.

Frankly, he had worried that might be it for them all. The thought that Reed would share their fate was no real comfort, even if the murderer deserved it. But they had recovered enough strength now to return. Fang had wanted to just use a payphone and call a ride, but that was just stupid.

Fang worried they would get shunted into cells after going AWOL. People were so eager to believe the worst of Mr. Xanatos. It never failed really, a man manages to succeed, to rise above, and every other person below only wants to tear them down somehow. When they'd be better off trying to follow them in success.

They cleared the wall and landed in the courtyard, and he was relieved to see Mr. Burnett waiting for them. The unflappable blonde man did not approach them.

"Mr. Maza, gentlemen, welcome back. Might I assume you are here to stay?" the bespectacled man said in his usual tone.

"Yeah, we would have been back sooner, but…" Derek gestured to his panther face.

"So it would seem. Your previous quarters are ready. After you are rested, the new geneticist wants to meet with you at your easiest convenience."

"Very well," Derek said, waking past Burnett. Good, he had been wasting time, letting his emotions get the better of him again. What happened with Elisa, he couldn't just take that back, but he couldn't beat himself up over it either. Mr Xanatos had apparently been busy while he was AWOL, getting the ball rolling for a cure. Whatever his part was, he needed to be ready to do it. And for that, he couldn't let himself get distracted.

"Hey Jeeves, call room service for me, will ya? I've been eating off meat locker robbery, despite protest from the boy scout. This cat needs his pork. Heck, tell them they can flash fry the whole pig and send it up on a dolly with a bucket of mustard!" Fang was saying behind him.

Derek rolled his eyes on the bum's antics. Yeah, he needed to have his game on, because between the damaged Claw and the idiot Fang, he had no choice but to be the reliable one for his boss.

 **X X X**

Derek stood in the med bay, wishing this wasn't where they had been called. He was fine with the setting, but Claw was clearly anxious, glancing to the door and repeatedly flexing his wings. Fang had been cracking wise about it, until Derek told him to lay off the mute. Besides, it was clear the other long-term guinea pig was also not pleased to be here either.

Finally, a door on the far side opened and a blonde woman walked in, wearing a white coat with a turtleneck showing above the buttons. She wore plain glasses and had piercing blue eyes. Despite himself, Derek thought for a moment she looked quite good.

"Gentlemen. Glad you finally decided to end your strange little sojourn. I am not sure what Mr. Xanatos has told you, so I will provide the relevant information. I am Dr. Elizabeth Cranley, and I am now in control of the Legacy Project in place of the late Dr. Sevarius," she said.

"Legacy Project?" Derek interrupted.

"Yes, Mr. Maza, that is the project name for the genetic research and experimentation you ended up involved in," she rolled her eyes and tapped a pen on her clip board.

"Talon."

"What?" she repeated.

"I call myself Talon now. My old name no longer seems too- Hey!" he shouted as she stepped forward and smacked him in the head with her clipboard.

"No," she stated, stepping back to her start position and turned a page up on her board.

"No what?" Derek asked, rubbing his head.

"No quirky codenames. This is real life and, more importantly, my project. We are not going to have action figure selling codenames like this was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles," she said firmly, glancing up to glare at Derek. Then the glare swept over all of them before she tapped her board, frowning.

"…So, Legacy?" Derek asked.

"Hmm, contrary to what you may think, money is not often thrown after odd ball experiments for the sake of oddity. Well, not in this level of capital, anyway. The purpose of the project was the noble goal of being able to alter humans genetically to reduce the risk of, and ideally eliminate, genetic diseases and disorders, from ALS to Alzheimer's, correcting the genetic data and inheritance to rid humanity of these tragic programming errors."

"How the heck do you go from that to a bunch of Batcats?" Fang asked.

"Batcats? I thought Sevarius listed us as Mutates," Derek said.

Claw shrugged his shoulders, holding out his hands.

"Ahem. Batcats is a no, same reason as the stupid code names: Derek, Francis, and Claus."

"Hey Doc, my own mom couldn't make me answer to Francis," Fang objected. She ignored him and kept talking.

"As for mutate, that implies mutation. Mutation is a programming error in genetics, despite what television may have told you boys. Your current bodies are intelligently designed, meticulously engineered products of deliberate genetic manipulation. Sevarius was an overdramatic condescending egotist. Incidentally, Francis, 'he' is how you go from trying to cure genetic disorders to making Chimera. And yes, I have reclassified your state as Chimeras. Speaking of which, I called you here because you clearly underwent further changes while gone. So we will need to examine you immediately. So, one at a time, strip naked and follow me. We will start with manual examinations," Cranley said, setting aside her clipboard to put a medical glove on with a snap.

The guys exchanged a look before glancing down while trying not to look like they were.

"*sigh* I'd say you don't have anything I haven't seen before, gentlemen, but that would be both a lie and dishonest about why I am dong this myself. This is science, not high school. So which of you wants me examine your genitals and anus first?" she asked plainly.

 **X X X**

Derek Maza went first, a suitable enough choice.

The man looked more like a man-shaped panther than anything else, minus the wings. At first glance at least, his muscles were more of a human paragon than otherwise. It was not hidden strength; her inspection showed the impressive physique of a well-trained young man that had been vastly improved upon. The muscles tied to the wings were fascinating as well. Not human, but they belonged there.

Yes, Mutate was an insult for this form. It was refined, powerful, and even the simple motion requests of her exam betrayed a graceful elegance that could only be recently developing.

Had she performed this examination with no background data, it would never have occurred to her that the subject had once been human. Alien or cryptid would be more believable. But Sevarius had once again done the impossible.

'No, it is possible, or he would not have been able to do it,' she chided herself as she took notes and moved onto the tail.

"Any chance we can get rid of that?" Maza asked as she squeezed the tail carefully with her gloved hand. It took a moment to realize he meant the limb rather than an odd way of telling her to stop. She gave a final squeeze before letting go and answering.

"Surgically? Quite possible, but I would want a thorough picture of potential consequences before attempting it. Why?" she asked.

"I'd like to get something back of my humanity," he said lowly. Aggressive, the tone was controlled, but his body language was transparent. How interesting, and annoying.

"I am not fond of superfluous surgery, Mr. Maza, though I will admit there would be value in performing such an act to better test this body type."

She also thought losing the tail would hardly make him look human, and just look like a tailless winged catman. But voicing that opinion would be more trouble than it was worth. Especially as it was time to examine the "back nine" as her uncle had called it.

 **X X X**

Claw had been cooperative, but awkward. He was an aberration that only Reed confirmed, even with her current absence.

Reed. Such a shame the only female survivor of the process was rogue. She would have to see if she could pressure Xanatos into capturing her for study.

Claw, though, his damaged state was hard to measure with his muteness. Matters of mental health or analysis had never been her area of expertise. Frankly a lot of it, even today, seemed little more than reading tea leaves. Measurable actions and results were so much better to work with. Even if the unit of measure had to be created on the fly, as may be the case with this great leap.

As for "Frank", turned out he was a talker. Currently he was complaining about Mr. Maza, who he had taken to calling Big D. Apparently because it annoyed the other Chimera.

"You seem rather fixated on making him hostile to you," she commented as she started the exam.

"Well, that's just my charming personality, Doc. Going to psychoanalyze it?" he asked.

"Not my field," she said, taking measurements.

"Really? But it's so fun when girls try and get me. Thinking they can tell me what's wrong with me to either try and tear me down or thinking they can 'help' me. They just don't get it."

"What?"

"That I'm a bastard."

"You seem rather proud of that."

"Hey, bastards run the world, I bet you know what I'm talking about. Derek, he's a big angry boy scout, still thinking the scoutmaster has the answers and that the sash means something more than the money it took to buy the fixings. And I can see that. Come from a good family but with a chip on his ass to prove he can swing as good a bat as daddy can, or whatever. Me, I knew before I dropped between the legs that I was just another swappable part to society. No point getting angry, just the way it works. So I decided, if I wasn't destined for anything in particular, why not have fun on the ride? Guys like Big D, they are such easy targets. Can't hardly resist."

"Claus would seem the weaker link."

"Ain't no pride to take walking on a doormat, Doc, that's what it's there for," he laughed.

"You seem rather calm compared to the others. Have you taken substances?" she pressed.

"Hmm, no, even snagging booze seemed a stretch. Not that I would mind if you're offering. Though truth be told, I feel like a million in gold or something. I could benchpress most guys, have tasers and knives built into my hands, and I can freaking fly! Honestly, I kinda wish Big D would get real mad, so I could really see what I can do. Now those gargoyles, that was something!"

"…you're not bothered by your current state?" she pressed, shifting focus, taking notes in a different column.

"Why would I be? This body's way better than my old one. Seems to me I might finally be a bit of a player in this game called life with what I'm packing now. 'Sides, I was homeless — three hots and a nice cot on Xanatos' dime alone is a pretty sweet deal. If the price of admission is having to stay out of sight for a lot of the time, that seems pretty fair."

"An interesting attitude," she remarked. It was actually rather logical, despite the packaging. Assuming no malignant mutations developed, one could safely call this a superior life-form from several standpoints.

"Don't get me wrong, Doc, I get why Big D is pissed. He was pretty good looking, a strapping specimen, had a cool job as a cop, and had traded up to enough figures to leave some of his issues in the dust. Heh, if he'd had a few more months, he probably would have gotten himself a sweet apartment with expensive junk to impress the hot gold digger girl he would have gotten. Probably a blonde. He looks like the type to like blondes," Frank chuckled. She still stood behind him, considering it. Mental effects were to be noted. A pity there weren't reliable records of him beforehand like Maza. Still, fascinating.

"But all that went straight into the paper shredder once the Dead Doc stuck him full of freak juice. And now he's got to hope you can tape that paper back together so he can get back on track to being the kinda rich dick that works for a wealthy magnificent bastard like Xanatos, probably disappointing his family and alienating all his old friends in the bargain. So I get why Big D's so angry, I just don't care. So tell the boss for me, I'm game."

Thinking she should really restart the exam, Cranley bit at the bait anyway.

"Game for what?"

"Come on, Doc. Derek has his boy scout glasses on and Claw's a regular head of pudding. But me? I may have barely scrapped a GED, but I can read the writing on the walls even when someone slaps on a few posters to cover a bit of the letters. Curing diseases, better tomorrow? You don't just leap from that Nobel crap to us. Xanatos commissioned super soldiers that could throw down like no human could. And I'm okay with that. So long as I get my cut and some respect, I'm good, no need to act. And if Big D gets wise and makes trouble, I got it. Just so long as you guys got my back too," he said, glancing back over his shoulder.

He grinned, showing off his fangs.

"And Doc, keep staring at my ass and I might have to start to charging you," he remarked.

Face flushing, she frowned and stepped forward, smacking him in the back of the head with the clipboard.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice cold and even.

"Yes, actually, how'd you guess? Were you staring from the other side of the glass? Hmm, guess even when they grow up, nerds are still kinky," he was laughing around his words now.

"Well, since you are in a good mode, why don't we skip ahead to the internal inspection?" she threatened.

"Slow down there lady, why don't you buy a cool cat a beer first?" he chuckled, but he acquiesced.

The rest of the procedure was quiet. But he was still grinning when he left. As for her, she had the data to consider.

 **X X X**

Maggie was contemplating speaking to Broadway as they flew back toward the tower. It had been two nights since his bright idea to try and get her angry enough to use her electric power.

To be fair she had agreed to the deviation from shadowing him on patrol as part of training. Still, she had only slapped him around some for what he said, nothing more than a bit of shock from that. And he claimed he wasn't sure if that was the electricity or her hitting hard.

Really, the whole thing had just been a bad outcome for them both. And giving him the silent treatment was probably running its course.

As they came in sight of the tower, Maggie pulled ahead, flapping to gain the lead. Flight was the best thing she had going for her, and she never lost an informal race like this, save to Goliath or Hudson.

The landing was as smooth as she was coming to expect.

"Good landing," Broadway said, coming in next to her.

"…Thank you," Maggie said. That said, she walked into the tower. From the landing she leapt down, landing on all fours, and padded over toward the TV area where Hudson was.

"So, anything?" Hudson asked as Maggie climbed onto the couch.

"Two muggings, and a drug deal," she reported. Hudson made a sound acknowledging that, but didn't say anything else.

She was wondering if Lexington would be satisfied observing that new machine he had been ranting about. He got exited about strange things for a gargoyle, she thought. Seeing Hudson was watching celebrity hockey again, she decided the couch was not the place to stay.

 _Shortly:_

Maggie was reading a cookbook in Goliath's chair when he got back. As she had essentially appointed herself clan cook, the least she could do was try and find some more variety. Broadway had plenty of suggestions, but she quite simply had more time on her hands to actually do cooking with than the limited resources the tower had for it.

So when she heard Goliath was back, she did not get up right away and was too preoccupied considering if the pork dish she had just read about to listen to what was being said.

So she was caught flatfooted walking into the clan, glancing up from the book to see a gargoyle made half out of metal.

As Hudson greeted him, the cyborg turned to look at her, the metal on his face seemed almost like bits of armor, something you could pull away to find flesh under. Except it didn't quite look like flesh, she realized, was that stone?

His eyes widened slightly, surprised to see a winged catwoman staring at him while holding a book. Oh wait, she had dropped the book, Maggie realized. That was probably why he had looked over at her. Hudson was next to him then, putting a hand on a metal shoulder.

"Lad, this is Maggie. Maggie, I think we told you about Coldstone?" the elder said.

Coldstone stepped up to her and gave a smile that seemed sincere.

"Sister said that we few were the only survivors. I am pleased she was wrong again," he said with a deep voice.

"Uh, yes. But I'm…" she said, shaking his hand. It was very… made of metal.

"Do not fear offending me, I know this form is hideous," he sighed. Despite the words, his eyes glanced away.

"No. I-" Maggie stuttered, still holding his hand. What was she doing? How much of a hypocrite could she be? But couldn't she have gotten a bit of a warning?

Coldstone's eyes went blank. He seemed to freeze, and Maggie reflexively tried to pull her hand back. It didn't budge. Before she could try again, Coldstone twitched and looked at her in puzzlement.

"Who are you?" the cyborg asked. His tone was… off.

"Maggie?" the catwoman said, unsure. Glancing up and around at the clocktower, a stunned look came over the cyborg.

"What is this place? How am I here?" he said, releasing her hand. Maggie stepped back, eyes widening. Was his mind broken? Had he been rotting in the river this whole time?

"Brother, are you alright?" Goliath said, stepping up. Coldstone was surprised to see him too, grabbing his shoulder.

"Goliath? Why do you call me brother? Can't you see-" he said, and happened to look at the full-length mirror they had gotten for Maggie awhile back.

He screamed at the sight and pushed Goliath away. The cyborg bound past everyone, rushing up to the doorway. A sound like rocket going off erupted outside.

"Maggie stay here!" Goliath commanded, already running after the cyborg, with the clan following.

"Yeah, okay!" Maggie agreed as the tower emptied.

"…Jeeze!" she breathed out, before sitting down hard on the couch.

 _Later_ :

"So, he's not dead?" Maggie asked Lexington as Broadway and Hudson moved the cyborg away from the main area of the tower. He seemed stiff as a statue now. But he was not 'stone' stone.

"No. But Coldstone is a fusion of cutting edge science and ancient magic. Throw in three souls and an AI sharing him as a vessel… He's pretty unprecedented," the small gargoyle admitted.

"Is he braindead though, with that virus Goliath says he saw?" Maggie asked.

"Can't say. The AI should be gone, but are souls more durable or would it be like dying? It could be he's just an automaton now, inert until commands are input by some outside force," Lex speculated. Maggie looked back to them stashing him out of sight.

"Is this safe?" she pressed. Lexington sighed and shrugged; she had the feeling he shared her concerns. But he wasn't speaking up.

Thanking him, Maggie made her way up to the exit and stepped out. The sky was showing the signs of morning approaching. She had gained a good eye for its changes in a short time. Goliath stood off to the right at a corner, cloaked in his wings, looking out over the city.

"Maggie," he greeted her as she approached. He raised an eyebrow and she stopped.

"You've become adept at moving like that," he noted. Oh, right, she had gone on all fours climbing the steps, she realized. Blushing, she stood up.

"You did not follow tonight," Goliath noted. Maggie blinked at the question, waiting a moment to answer.

"By your order," she reminded him.

"But this tine you obeyed. Thank you," he said. She didn't know what to say to that, so she let him continue.

"As leader, I am not beyond questioning. But I need you to trust my judgement. Your training goes well, but Coldstone as a foe… I would not risk you against such a threat, Maggie. If I insulted you, I apologize," he said.

"Well, I'm not sure a cyborg gargoyle is something I was ready to face over dinner, much less a fight," Maggie shrugged. She tried chuckling, but it trailed off. There was no levity to be had here.

"I'm sorry about your brother, and your sister too," she added. Goliath scowled and looked back to the city, toward where sunrise would come from. Was he hoping for the sun to end this conversation? Maggie wondered if she should just leave.

"Three times. Three times I've lost him, Maggie. And this time I lost a sister as well. And the other, the evil one, to think there was such a vile soul in our midst. I knew there was bitterness in him, but I never thought… The leader protects the clan, all duties of the post boil down to that truth. To provide guidance and uphold the gargoyle way, and in doing so the clan shall survive and prosper. Yet they keep slipping through my grasp. Tonight I could do nothing but flee, leaving them both to their fate," he finished. The mighty gargoyle looked so very tired.

Maggie reached, hesitated, then laid her hand on his shoulder anyway.

"You saved me," she reminded him. She wanted to say more, to not make it about her when there was so much else Goliath should be praised for. But she couldn't find the words; it seemed increasingly inappropriate that she be here, intruding on his silent refection.

Pulling her hand back, she almost went down to all fours to leave, but caught herself, waking back to the door. He was still looking to the horizon and the sun would rise soon.

She couldn't leave it like this.

"Goliath. I am happy to be part of your clan," she said. She ducked in, blushing and almost bumping into Brooklyn.

"Oh," Maggie said, stopping short as she practically ran into the red gargoyle.

"Umm, sunrise," he said. Maggie nodded and stepped aside, letting him pass. The others followed shortly behind, Broadway grinning about something as he bid her goodday, while Lex just looked a bit irritated. She glanced over her shoulder watching them in puzzlement.

"Something else happen?" she asked Hudson as he brought up the rear.

"Just lads being lads, lass. Think nothing of it," he advised. But his grin made her think there was something more at work here. Giving Bronx a stroke as he followed Hudson out, Maggie descended into the clock tower to face the day.

Whatever was going on with those three it probably was none of her business anyway.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _Surprise, another one!_

 _This was a fun chapter mostly. The training arc was the hardest part, I ended up relegating most of it to off-screen. So sorry for that cheap tactic, but i am not someone who can write sparring and combat teaching well it turns out. Though it did give a good chance for Goliath to expound on the Gargoyle Way._

 _Derek's group and Cranley got more screen time, which was fun. Derek is a nice challenge, I don't want to make him unsympathetic; but his choices are making him an antagonist at this point. Ron the Deatheater must be avoided._

 _Fang, Frank here, was a big surprise. He really strutted into stage and leapt into clarity as a character. A pleasant surprise that helped clarify his role in the story going forward._

 _Now I am sure some of you are disappointed in Maggie not being more involved with Coldstone's return. But I figured Goliath would not want her in such a dangerous, and complex, situation so soon. And that Maggie after the previous chapter is more hesitant about jumping in._

 _Don't worry, next chapter we meet two of my favorite characters, and Maggie gets her first real battle._

 _Until then, long days and pleasant nights to you all._


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I still do not own Disney's "Gargoyles"

Betaed by: Zim'smostloyalservant and Trackula

* * *

Chapter 5

 **Taking Flight**

Maggie was trying to force the amp machine to a higher reading when her ears perked up. The clan was gathered in the main area and Elisa had just stopped in as well.

"The scrolls are coming here?" she asked. Leaving her training spot, she sat the AMP reader aside and padded over to look down on the others near where Hudson sat.

"Yeah, the HMS Churchill should reach New York tonight," Lexington said, looking up from his disassembled newspaper.

"Who was Merlin anyway? A wizard like the Magus, right?" Brooklyn asked, looking up from his magazine. There was some heat to his tone; she gathered his experience with magic had left him rather distrustful of it.

"A white wizard from the 5th century. There are several books about him in the library downstairs," Goliath clarified. He spoke of it so factually, Maggie thought, but then, was she in any place to doubt swords in stones and round tables with all that had been revealed to her?

There really was nothing for it but to try and keep moving forward through all this strangeness. It was when she had to slow down, or worse stop and have no choice but to think that the... other stuff started to creep in.

The 'Daylight Feelings' she had privately dubbed those times.

"Why bother with marks on a page when you can just see the movie?" Broadway butted in, walking over eating a sandwich.

"They're not just marks when you can read," Lexington remarked.

"Yeah and I'm just a big dumb gargoyle with his brain in stomach," Broadway griped.

"You can't read?" Maggie asked, surprised.

"Not a word," Brooklyn put in. Broadway glared at his brother, and Maggie spoke up, trying to stop an argument from breaking out.

"There are movies with Merlin in them. Plays too. I played Guinevere once in Camelot. Merlin, the man who lived backwards, blessed and cursed to have memory of past and future. Fated to follow Nimue to her cave and sleep unending," she recalled.

Her voice, raspy and rough. So unlike her human voice. Looks aside, that voice would have killed any dreams of the stage, she thought.

And it seemed she had not stopped the argument, as Brooklyn called for Hudson to weigh in on Broadway's proud illiteracy.

"Ach, leave me out of this. Celebrity hockey is coming on," the old gargoyle answered brusquely. Maggie smiled a bit, glad he was above getting into a petty argument here. Still, she should try and persuade Broadway to learn something of reading, she thought.

"What do the scrolls contain?" Goliath asked Elisa.

"They're still sealed, so it could be anything. Lots of people seem to think it could hold magic spells. Passed down from the greatest wizard to ever live. Gotta go, I'm working security detail and need to meet the Churchill off the coast," Elisa said pulling a red cap on. Maggie noticed Goliath's posture grow more tense at the detective's words.

 **X X X**

"I fear Xanatos will seek to take the scrolls," Goliath said plainly. He had told Elisa they would be nearby; she had not questioned it, understanding what he meant, apparently. Maggie stood with the gargoyles as Goliath explained himself.

"I thought he liked to avoid high profile stuff. The scrolls are a sensation — after years of cynicism, they could be the best proof ever that Camelot was more than a legend," Maggie said.

"Xanatos is talented at diverting blame for his actions Maggie. We took the Grimorum from him, and while he mainly employs science, he covets all power. Merlin's magic could draw him to take risks," Goliath answered.

From there it was decided, and Maggie accompanied them to the balcony to see them off; only for Goliath to take his perch and look back.

"Coming?" he asked. Maggie straightened up a bit, stunned.

"Me?" she asked dumbly.

"I doubt Xanatos would come personally or send the mutates. You have trained enough, the only question is if you think you are ready," Goliath said.

Maggie dragged a foot back, and the scrapping noise made her look down and realize her claws had slipped out. Pulling them back in, she looked to the clan. The trio smiling encouragement, Goliath stoic, and Hudson just giving a nod.

'I'm not ready,' she could almost hear herself saying it. It felt right, what she should say. What was the training really? She was still her, despite becoming a freak. It would just be like the castle needing to be saved and causing trouble. Maggie Reed wasn't someone who could protect herself, much less anyone else.

But she didn't want to say those words. And not just because it would feel like betraying the encouragement she was being given now.

Bronx gave an irritated sound and shoved the back of her knee with his head.

The slight stumble turned into a step, and the steps carried Maggie to step up to perch with the clan. She didn't say a word or even look at the others, she just assumed her position, ready to fly.

Goliath led, and they took off into the night, Maggie climbing slightly higher than the rest, with her wings beating at a slow rhythm, augmenting the gliding.

Just as she took a deep breath, trying to think of it for now as a just another flight, she noticed storm clouds out to sea.

 **X X X**

Maggie was the first to hear the sounds of battle. Her eyes piercing the dark and wings able to flap and cut through the wind, she resisted an urge to take point.

"You were right, Goliath. Looks like two machines!" Maggie called.

"They must belong to Xanatos," Hudson said.

"Harrier jets!" Lexington called out, "They can take off like helicopters. I read all about them in the magazines!"

"With a life this exciting, who needs books?" Broadway said.

'Still on that, are we?' Maggie thought flatly.

Then, they were in the thick of it. Diving down as the jets' engines powered up, she stuck the landing perfectly, the metal of the ship's deck moving in the storm. She was surprised how easily she kept her feet, but she was standing still!

The others hadn't stopped. She saw Hudson manage to leap onto one of the ascending jet's wings and heard the canopy break.

As swift as she had landed, she found herself alone on the deck, and with a curse took to the air, picking the plane with Hudson as her target. Between the strong winds and the jet engines playing with the currents, she was grateful for her flapping to correct her course. Finally, she rose above the jet in question and grabbed onto the front edge of the wing by the cockpit.

And realized she was stuck. While Hudson was holding on next to the cockpit despite the pilot trying to shake him off, he was probably making handholds with his claws. She needed a grip to get closer, and the wing looked too smooth for that.

Glancing to her hands, she started to scoot them closer. Even with her wings tucked close to her body, the wind was trying to catch her and pull her off, but she was getting closer.

Hudson pulled the canopy off the cockpit entirely, and she saw the pilot for the first time, a brick-jawed blonde man wearing sunglasses. He must have felt her looking his way, because he turned to look and a pained expression turned to even more surprise.

As coached, she responded by baring her fangs and growling deep in her throat. Yeah, that scared him; the narrowed eyes might have helped too. But he was no mugger, apparently, and responded by pulling a gun from somewhere and pulling what looked like a very professional bead on her.

Again, the simplest lesson came to mind, and she let go, letting the wind carry her out of the line of fire.

"Oh great, and now Hudson's on his own," she cursed, righting herself in the air. The planes started to open fire. Apparently, they had weapons on top. Had they been modified to deal with close quarter threats? Gargoyle threats?

"Hudson?!" she shouted. Was that him falling?

She swept down, but didn't see anything and stopped well short of the water. She didn't know how well she could swim like this, and she had not been a very good swimmer to begin with.

The jets roared, and she watched them start to break away into the night. Spotting the clan coming together, she felt sick not spotting Hudson.

"Where are Broadway and Hudson?" Goliath demanded of them all.

"There's Broadway, on the Harrier!" Brooklyn said. Following his gesture, Maggie did spot the stout gargoyle clinging to the jet's undercarriage before its engines really kicked in, carrying it out of sight along with its partner.

"Hudson must be on the other one," Lexington said. Maggie nearly nodded to herself, but a nagging thought made her speak up.

"I might have seen him go into the water," she said, guiding her flight into the formation.

"Did you see that or not?" Goliath asked.

"…I don't know. I could have sworn I saw it, but I didn't see him in the water."

"Goliath?" Brooklyn asked.

"We can't be sure. But we know Broadway will need support. Maggie, Hudson is a strong swimmer. Even if he can't regain the skies, he would make it to shore. Head to the coast and search for him. We will head to the castle," Goliath ordered. Maggie nodded and the rest broke away.

Alone in the sky, Maggie breathed a huge sigh, feeling exhausted from the rapid events she had just been caught in.

 **X X X**

Goliath threw open the doors into the great hall and shouted.

"Xanatos!" He didn't see the billionaire, only his blonde retainer, seated at a desk, working at a computer near the wall.

"Broadway, Hudson, where are they?!" Goliath demanded.

The bespectacled man stood and walked toward them, but kept his attention on a metal container he was holding. Raising an eyebrow, he gave them a half glance.

"I suppose they could be anywhere," he remarked dryly.

"No games. You will tell us where they are," Goliath demanded. Burnett actually smiled as he closed the container, and tucked a pen into his pocket.

"You know I can't tell you that," he responded. The tone was the same, but the smile made it infuriating.

"Then we will find them ourselves," Goliath declared. He turned back to the door; there was no point trying to intimidate this man, he was certain. He stopped as a figure stepped into the doorway, blocking their path.

A winged figure whose cat eyes caught the light as he stepped into the light.

Derek Maza had seemingly mutated further, as Maggie had, a muscular, sleek panther man clad in a green shirt with blue shorts. And looking displeased, but then he had hardly worn any other expression Goliath had seen since his transformation.

"You gargoyles have some nerve, thinking you can just barge in here and make threats like you own the place," Elisa's brother growled. Brooklyn cleared his throat, getting the mutate's attention.

"Listen, you're Elisa's brother, so I am just going to tell you: Don't go there on the whole 'who owns this place' deal. I don't see it ending well for you, pal," Brooklyn said. A door opened by Burnett, and the other two mutates entered, also with more refined forms, the grey one wearing a white shirt and the tiger man bare-chested.

"Hey, Big D," the grey mutate spoke over them to Derek, "Last time it was three on five and we did pretty well. How about we dance three on three this round, eh? I know you have a mad on for the big one, so I'll take the scrawny one and Klaus can have the runt."

"Who are you calling runt?" Lexington demanded, sounding more irritated than angry. The tiger man Klaus actually looked a bit intimidated though, and pointed to Fang as if to make clear who was throwing insults around.

"Now Mr. Mills," Burnett said, returning to his desk, "there is no need for a scuffle. Let them search, Mr. Xanatos has nothing to hide from them tonight."

"Well maybe we should help them look, then," Derek said, glaring at Goliath, "Help an honest gargoyle stay honest, right?"

"I don't want to fight you and have no time," Goliath said by way of answer. He walked through the doorway, and thankfully Derek stepped aside to let him pass.

"Well, it really is more impactful in real life," a woman's voice called out as they entered the courtyard.

"Doctor? You shouldn't be here," Derek protested, rushing past Goliath.

Goliath saw the speaker now. A woman with pale skin, glasses, and blonde hair pulled up in a bun was crossing the courtyard toward them. She wore a lab coat, and she had been addressed as "Doctor".

"The late Sevarius's replacement, I assume?" Goliath guessed. Brooklyn tensed at that, but held steady. The doctor gave him a cold smile and brushed off Derek as he tried to stand between her and them. He did not look happy, but obeyed the silent command to glare at them over her shoulder.

"Well deduced. Magnificent brawn, decent brains. How efficient for the ubermensch to be the chieftain. Was that typical when your species had a functioning society?" she asked.

"…I don't have time for this. You have two of my people, and if you are performing your twisted experiments-" Goliath began.

"Ha! Don't be ridiculous. Do I look like Sevarius to you? Besides, if I was a mad scientist, do you think I would have risked coming up here for a first hand glimpse of gargoyles if two were restrained and ready for study? It's simple logic and I suggest you apply it," she said. To Derek's irritation, she advanced, not to Goliath but to stand in front of Lexington. Making a humming noise, she adjusted her glasses and looked him up and down. When she took a large step around his flank, he turned to keep facing her, which made her frown slightly.

"Such fascinating diversity in the same species. This one really is unique from the others in size and wing structure," she remarked.

"Enough, we must not be distracted," Goliath commanded.

Goliath marched off, and they followed. Derek fell in close to Goliath, radiating aggression but not making a move.

"I am Dr. Elizabeth Cranley, Goliath. I expect we will see more of each other in the future. Enjoy the walk down memory lane," the scientist called out. Goliath didn't look back.

"I'm guessing Reed pulled through the transformation," Derek said as Goliath broke off from the others to search the castle.

"She is well."

"Smart enough not to come here. I'm looking forward to you not finding a thing so you can eat your accusations, Goliath. You'd have made a terrible cop," Derek said.

"I remember when I realized the truth of Xanatos, Derek. I expect it will be just as necessary but far more painful for you," Goliath answered. Elisa's brother may be a fool, but he was caught in Xanatos' lies. Goliath could not just think of him as an enemy as much as the man was trying to be just that.

"Elisa will be pleased to hear you are in good health," Goliath added. He received no answer for that. In fact, Derek remained silent as Goliath began is search of the castle.

 **X X X**

It was awkward, being shadowed by someone who clearly would rather not be there, Lexington decided. As he exited another room to find the mute mutate waiting, he decided to break the silence.

"You don't have to be here, you know," Lexington said. Klaus nodded, and gestured down the hallway.

"I don't mean just watching me. I mean here with Xanatos. We were strangers to the city, and we survive out there," Lexington said. Klaus looked up and down the corridor, and then nodded, looking intently at Lex.

"Interested?" Lex asked.

The tiger man shook his head and held up two then three fingers, then pressed them together.

"*sigh* I get it," Lex admitted, and moved on with his search. It wasn't like he could argue with loyalty to one's clan.

 **X X X**

Brooklyn was trying to focus on the search, reminding himself how important it was. At least as much as it was hard to ignore the motor mouth tailing him.

"I'm just saying, with a freaky face like that you make me feel handsome. I mean, I'm not like Big D, I'm used to life rolling a snake eyes for me, while I get the feeling he thought he was owed something. Say, you're friends with that sister of his? The cop? I never really got to take a good look myself, but the files show quite a looker. Not my type, though. So, she as much of a self important prick wrapped around 'woe is me' as Big D?"

"If she were here, she'd shut you up without having to raise her voice," Brooklyn hoped he got the message.

"I see. So that's part of his problem. Feeling he's not big enough cause he gets showed up by his pretty sister? Bet she was Daddy's little trooper more than him too. Yeah, doesn't take a degree to break him down. Say, I hear the only gargoyle gal still standing is your boss' psycho ex-girlfriend. That's rough man. Not that we're flush with catwomen fluttering about. Say now, have you guys been passing the pussycat around in whatever attic you roost in? How is she? Scale of one to ten?" Frank chuckled, leaning in close as Brooklyn checked a wall for a secret panel or anything.

"Hmm, you always like this?" Brooklyn asked calmly.

"Why?"

"Just wondering if anyone would mind if I smashed you face clear through this wall. Who knows, maybe then you'd at least be half as pretty as me," Brooklyn said, turning to glare at him, eyes aglow.

That made the mutate take a step back, eyes widening a bit. But then he grinned and chuckled in a way that might have been sincere.

"I think I might like you, Brooklyn."

"Stop talking and I might like you a bit more," Brooklyn said, bumping past him out the door.

 **X X X**

Maggie realized she had been left behind before she reached the coast. Goliath knew she was mistaken and that Hudson had managed to grab onto the other jet. He had sent her off as a polite dismissal after that poor performance.

She couldn't blame him. What had she been thinking? She was no hero, or warrior. Just a freak that happened to live with those kind of people. Landing on the beach, she cloaked her wings and looked up and down the sandy expanse. This waterfront was pretty wooded, she wasn't sure exactly where they were.

Shaking her head, Maggie went down to all fours and entered the tree line. Picking what seemed the most likely direction, she started making her way, cutting through the brush with ease and keeping a keen eye on the beach.

Even if it was a pity assignment, she would not shirk it.

 **X X X**

Doubt was seeping in as Goliath reached the library. Derek was looking smug when Goliath had last glanced back at Elisa's brother. What luck would it be if, after their last encounter, this time they could find absolutely nothing to connect Xanatos to his crimes.

Entering the library, he was not surprised to see Burnett there, apparently organizing the books on a shelf. The man was as poised as ever. Brooklyn and Lexington entered, their escorts following and taking up places by the door with Derek.

"We've searched everywhere and haven't found a thing," Brooklyn admitted.

"How surprising," Burnett remarked, placing another book on the shelf.

"Goliath, the sun will be up soon," Lexington reminded him.

They were running out of time. No, they were basically out of time.

And he had left Maggie on her own.

"You know something. You must tell us," Goliath pressed.

"You're like a broken record, Goliath," Derek sneered "You've seen for yourself Mr. Xanatos isn't hiding anything. What more do you want?"

The other one, Frank, chuckled, "Maybe they want a daylight reservation on the tanning deck?"

"All of Mr Xanatos' vertical aircraft are in the shop, Goliath. But you might try Macbeth," Burnett said, casually.

'Macbeth?! We've been looking in the wrong direction. Maggie would stand no chance against a warrior like him,' Goliath realized.

The others followed him out silently. They needed to get clear of the castle.

And pray the day would not make them too late for the other's sakes.

 **X X X**

When her wings felt better, she took to the air, covering more ground. But not going too high. But had she gone too far, maybe he should circle back now?

Returning to the sandy beach, she made her way back to the brush and considered the sky.

'Rats, dawn is close. Not enough time to fly back to the tower. I'll have to lay low in this brush, I guess. May as well double back some, then pick a place to settle down.'

She groaned at the thought of a day fasting and hiding. But there was nothing for it. Getting to her feet, she leapt into the air, easily clearing the pathetic canopy to fly off.

She did not notice the wide eyes watching her through the bushes, most of the face covered by a blanket as the man sat with his back against a tree.

 **X X X**

Jeffrey Robbins closed the door as he returned to his house, frowning slightly.

He did not really think he had run Hudson off with his preaching, but the old soldier had run off so quickly. Robbins had never intended to just let him walk off — he was certain from the smell of salt water on the man and finding him on the beach that Hudson had fallen overboard or survived a riptide or such to make shore. Even men in their prime don't simply brush that off.

He had hoped to convince him to go to a doctor or at least take a a cab.

And then that sound. What had that been? The closest thing he could recall was the sound of thick ice cracking under its own weight. But it had not been that, obviously.

Well, the day had begun, and whatever was going on with Hudson was out of his hands for good or ill.

As he was picking up the coffee cups, he heard something. Aircraft, low flying. It cut out… no, it must have flown right past. The house could play tricks with outside noises.

When Gilly started barking he realized someone was outside.

Opening the window Robins spoke.

"Hudson, is that you?" It wasn't Gilly did not care for this person he could tell by her barks giving way o growls.

"Who's there?" Robbins pressed.

"My name is Lennox Macduff sir. I'm a friend of Hudson's. I'm, concerned bout him," the intruder said. A Scottish accent fairly thick but easily understood, not unlike Hudson's he admitted. Still Robbins only opened the sliding door enough to answer politely.

"He's not here, you just missed him," Robbins answered plainly.

"Then I'll trouble you no further, good day," Macduff said. He turned and walked back across the lawn and Robbins knelt taking hold of Gilly who was growling and seemed like she might take off after the man.

Well that settled hi gut feeling own impression on the man. Robbins hoped this Macduff did not find Hudson.

He listened carefully as the man walked back across the lawn, he wanted to make sure he was gone. Because while nothing in that little conversation was patently unbelievable, intuition honed in 'Nam and kept sharp by decades of people thinking they could make an easy mark of a blind man told him one thing. The man was lying.

He believed he was looking for Hudson, but he highly doubted he was any friend of the other Scotsman. Like that name, could be real, but it sounded fake to him. Liars with fake names following old men washed up from the sea. Yeah, this was getting interesting in the dangerous ways.

The liar stopped by the garden wall, and Robbins thought he heard metal over stone, but it was so quick. Then the man was gone, out of earshot.

Troubled, Robbins closed the window, hoping Hudson had made good his escape from whatever was going on.

 **X X X**

Maggie paused to watch the aircraft take off. It had not been on the ground for long at all. She had been on the verge of settling down for a day of hiding when it passed overhead.

It wasn't the same as the Harrier jets, but her instincts told her to investigate. But the sun was nearly up, so she had to follow its trajectory on foot. Fortunately, it had not gone far.

She had only just parted the underbrush enough with her hand to watch it start to take off, kicking up a wind that she narrowed her eyes against.

She growled a little; watching it rise and fly off, she felt rather cheated, getting her hopes up only to arrive too late to so much as see anything useful. Or had it not even been related?

She was turning to go back, when she saw it in a patch of bare soil amongst the grass. A light but clear gargoyle footprint.

Following the protocol for such, she quickly scuffed it out with the back of her hand and retreated into the brush again. Hudson. It could only be Hudson.

He'd be stone by now, but still. Low to the ground, she crept along from cover to cover, then spotted it. A gargoyle on a garden wall that did not fit the pattern of the others set out.

Rushing up to the wall, she stood up and touched Hudson's stone foot to assure herself it was real.

"Found you," she whispered. Goliath had not sent her off to be out of the way!

But what now, she wondered, tapping her chin. It wasn't like she could contact the clan, they were stone as well. This area seemed either wealthy enough to have space, or deserted enough. So were there any pay phones she could risk to call Elisa?

A dog started barking.

 **X X X**

"Gilly?" Robbins said. He had only stepped out to check for the mail, but Gilly was excited.

"Is someone there?" he asked. Yes, he was sure someone was, but they weren't answering.

"Hudson?" he asked. It wasn't likely, Gilly had liked Hudson right away, like most people.

"No," A woman said. A scratchy voice, a touch raspy, but definitely feminine. Damaged by something, perhaps? He faced the voice — she was by the gate. At least Gilly was calming down, though still excited.

"Sorry, Gilly doesn't usually react that way. Though sometimes she gets excited around cats," Robbins admitted.

"Well, no mystery there. You could say I'm a cat person. You said Hudson just now. I have been looking for him. Was he alright?" she asked.

Robbins considered her for a moment. A great deal seemed to going on, and he didn't know very much. But unlike that MacDuff character, he was getting a good feeling for her.

"He didn't seem to be a in a good way when Gilly and I found him on the beach. But he left on his own around sunrise. Seemed to be in a hurry all of a sudden."

"He's very tough, stubborn too," she said.

"I got that feeling."

Disliking distance for a conversation, and deciding she was alright, he walked toward her. And heard her take a step back. The wind shifted, and he caught the smell of her. A good bit of body odor and, yes he thought, he did smell something like a cat that had recently dried up.

Homeless, or at least poor, his experience told him. The fact her stomach loudly growled was a bit of a hint.

"My name is Maggie, by the way," she said.

"Jeffrey Robbins. Would you like to step inside?" he asked gesturing to the house.

"No, thank you," she said. She took a step back.

"…Did Hudson leave anything here? Like a metal canister?" she asked.

"No, nothing," Robbins answered. A good feeling, perhaps, but he was glad that was true.

"Well, have a good day. And thank you for looking after him like you did," she said.

"It was a pleasure to have him, I hope you find him," he said.

She ran off without another word. Actually ran. Seemed she was wearing tennis shoes or something, though.

"Strange day," he remarked, turning back to the house.

 **X X X**

Maggie didn't go far. Once in the brush, she went low, keeping an eye on Hudson.

If he had gone into the water, she would bet the canister had too. Had the bad guys taken it from Hudson? Found where he stashed it? Or had they found him without it and given up the search?

Whichever, the enemy had at least been near Hudson while he was helpless stone. She wasn't going to leave him vulnerable again. Looking down, she began to clear away the sticks and rocks on the ground. It was time to settle in for a long day.

Her stomach growled again, and she let a miserable sound out. A long, very unpleasant day.

 **X X X**

The doorbell rang. Then rang again, and a third time before the sequence finished.

"My goodness. Suddenly I seem to be Mr. Popular," Robbins remarked. Putting aside the plate he had used for lunch to the drying rack, he picked up his cane.

The bell rang again as he reached the door with Gilly.

"Mr. Robbins!" a familiar voice exclaimed when he opened the door. Ah, not a stranger this time.

"Lysander, what's the matter?" he greeted the local homeless man.

"I'm just glad you're okay, Mr. Robbins. I was worried about ya," the other man said, before coughing. Short of breath and smelling a bit of wine. As usual, his fellow 'Nam vet had seen better days.

"Worried about me? Whatever for?" Robbins asked.

"A monster, sir. Big cat-woman thing. With wings!" Lysander exclaimed, shuffling around a bit.

'Oh dear. Not again,' Robbins thought, frowning.

"Lysander. Have you fallen off the wagon?" he asked, gently but firmly.

"What? No! I'm clean, Mr. Robbins. Swear to Jesus. I'm not even drunk. I mean, yeah, I had a little last night, but I'm not drunk. You'd know if I was drunk. Can't fool your nose, anyway," Lysander pleaded.

Robbins had to admit he didn't smell like he had had too much. But still, he seemed to be seeing things, he needed to keep him calm.

"Listen, Mr Robbins. I got lucky, that thing was as big as a person! At first I thought it was a lion escaped from the zoo or something that got caught in a drape or something. But then it stood up and I could see it was a she. Breasts and a dress, and everything! Then it flew off this direction. I was going to pull out when I was sure it was gone, but then I realized — you're pretty isolated out here, and a blind man might seem like easy prey, sir. Had to warn you," Lysander continued.

"Brave as ever, soldier," Robbins said, lying a comforting hand on Lysander's shoulder. He invited the other soldier in for iced tea, and soon enough Lysander was sleeping on a couch. Sitting nearby, Robbins tapped his cane top, thinking.

"Lysander's not a liar, Gilly. And when he gets confused, it's not about seeing monsters, his demons are sadly closer to reality. He doesn't seem to be in a withdrawal, either. Hopefully I can convince him to go get checked out. Still, strange day," Robbins said.

He ended up forgoing the reading that was his usual routine to listen to some local radio news instead. For the first time he was actively hoping to hear something but new local urban myths.

 **X X X**

For just a moment awakening was as it had always been, a surge of power of life itself as he broke free from stone and stepped forth as flesh and blood again roaring at the thrill. He leapt into the air wings flexing

But Hudson was no young lad, and as the thrill of the first moment receded the weight of age and lingering pains returned settling back into their proper places. But he was truly restored from the exertion of the last battle.

More than enough.

The elder gargoyle, however, was more concerned with his empty hand. He had not dropped the canister, he could see. He was certain he had been holding it when he turned to stone. But he had been in a rush; had he forgotten it? Every instinct said no, but it was not here regardless.

Well, he supposed there was no harm in asking Robbins.

Passing through the gate, he heard the guide dog, Gilly, start to bark. A fine companion that, as diligent a protector as one could hope for.

It was instincts that made him turn before he heard someone coming up behind him.

"Hudson!" Maggie called, running up on all fours and coming to two feet as she reached him.

"Lass, good to see ya," he said, taking her hands in his own.

"Hudson?" Robbin said, opening a window.

"Robbins, sorry to bother you," Hudson said. Gilly licked his hand as Robbins walked up, while Maggie stepped back, regarding the dog warily. Hudson found that a bit amusing, though perhaps not surprising.

"Did I leave anything on the terrace? A metal canister?" Hudson asked.

"No, didn't your friend tell you?" he answered. He looked toward Maggie who seemed surprised at him realizing she was there.

"Don't underestimate a man cause he's blind, Maggie," Hudson chided cheerfully. Robbins chuckled, and Maggie's shoulders drooped. Ah, he sometimes forgot her confidence was not as sturdy as the lads'.

"I'm glad you're alright, Hudson. There was someone else looking for you, a Lennox Macduff," Robbin continued.

"I don't know any Lennox Macduff," Hudson said, puzzled.

"I'm not surprised, it sounds fake. Lennox and Macduff were two characters from one of Shakespeare's plays-"

"Macbeth. Oh, sorry," Maggie interrupted.

"Macbeth! We've got to go, lass!" Hudson exclaimed.

"What's wrong?" Robbins asked.

"It's Macbeth, Macduff! I do know him, but he's not a friend! I've got to go... I don't know where he lives," Hudson trailed off, slouching where he stood. He could feel Maggie looking to him, but what could he do? Ye can't track a plane like a trail, and he had no notion where Macbeth's castle was.

"Come in, maybe I have something that can help," Robbins said. Hudson followed the human in, not expecting much, but he had no ideas. Maggie hung back in the doorway, looking around the room, sniffing the air.

Robbin went to his bookcase and pulled out a very thick one, and started to flip though it. Puzzled, Hudson moved in close. It was brail, a langage of the blind, seemingly.

"Let's see now, Macbride, Macdonald, ah, Macduff. And Macduff, Lennox. There's an address, just like that," the veteran stated.

"A magic book," Hudson remarked.

"Aren't they all?" Robbins chuckled.

"The address, please?" Maggie asked.

 **X X X**

They had not diverted their course to the tower to see if Maggie had gone there. Time was of the essence; they would have to trust her ability to fend for herself, even as he disliked it.

Goliath was certain they had come to the right place this time. Macbeth's castle. Standing here in the woods with Brooklyn and Lexington, he recalled his visit here last time. Macbeth was a fearsome warrior; their battle had ended as much for the fire as Goliath overcoming the canny Scotsman.

He had been ready to face them, he knew of their kind. Of Demona. He was not surprised Demona had human enemies, but he had hoped Macbeth would not be their problem, knowing the clan would provide no leverage against Demona.

The fact the castle was now rebuilt spoke volumes of the wealth its master commanded. And it was no doubt prepared, as its predecessor had been.

"What now?" Brooklyn asked. Hudson landed behind them, Maggie following close behind.

"Now we go in," Hudson declared.

"Hudson!" Lexington called.

"Maggie!" Brooklyn chimed in.

"Where's Broadway?" Goliath pressed.

"In there, I take it. Maggie told me he rode off on one of those machines. And Macbeth has both scrolls, he took from my claws while I slept," Hudson reported.

That sent a cold spalsh down Goliath's back. An enemy had found Hudson while he was helpless. Though it seemed the Scotsman did have more honor than the vikings of their time.

"Look!" Lexington called. Smoke was rising from within the walls. Quite the fire, and he would wager it was sorcery at work.

No time to delay.

 **X X X**

It was like something out of a movie. She saw a long courtyard with a bonfire burning, and what looked like an altar, where a grey bearded man in black stood with his back to a chained Broadway. Motion drew Maggie's attention as cannons rose from the walls, and two humans rushed towards them.

"Cannon!" she cried e clan broke formation as blasts tore through the night. Folding her wings, Maggie dove, and the ground rushed up.

'Too fast!' she thought in a panic. She winced as she landed on all fours, nearly hitting the corner walls of the courtyard.

'Huh, cat lands on feet,' she thought, gingerly rising to stand. Turning from the shadow she was in, she narrowed her eyes, taking the scene in. The cannons were firing up, and the clan was being held at bay. Apparently the defenders had not noticed her panicked descent.

"Hmm, can they even fire to ground level?" she wondered. It didn't look like the case. She'd actually breached the first line of defense!

Going on all fours, she was pleased the pain in her pads and joints was fading. Slipping from pillar to pillar, she made her way toward the fire and Broadway. Peeking around a pillar, she took a good look at the middle-aged man workng at the altar.

Macbeth. He looked to be very good shape for a man his age, and he was very calm despite a battle going on literally above his head. Eyes beneath bushy grey eyebrows only focused on his task. She wondered if she should ambush him, but no. He had been able to effectively fight the clan with his skills and tricks. Broadway was the first priority.

Staying low and moving as quickly and silently as she could, she came around behind the human. When she came into the open behind him, Broadway saw her. Thankfully, he didn't say anything. The stout gargoyle only looked surprised, then grinned widely, drawing the manacles on his hands taut. Maggie nodded and padded up to him, grabbing the chain that held his right wrist in her hands.

"Quite the sneaky one, aren't you?" Macbeth said, turning around.

Maggie froze, head snapping around in time to see Macbeth draw a weird gun. She ducked and only then registered that lightning came from the gun, and hit Broadway, who yelled in pain. Maggie growled, and without thinking charged and lunged at the man. With a grin, the black-clad human dodged, and she ran into the altar.

Turning to face him, baring fangs, Maggie was met with a cocky expression and a raised eyebrow.

"What have we here? The boy reported a cat creature, thought he was just making excuses. An English gargoyle, is it lass?" he asked.

"No," Maggie growled. He wasn't shooting at her.

The scrolls! He had scrolls on the altar, and she had just dodged his blast. He wasn't going to risk damaging his prize, but he was tricky, just weighing his option.

'Have to act first,' she realized as the man reached into his coat with his free hand. Turning, she grabbed the first scroll she could lay her eyes on, and turned back to face him. Judging by his angry expression, that was the right move. And he answered by leveling his gun at Broadway, who was still moaning in the chains.

"That's dirty," she spat.

"Now, now, you meddled in my business this time, after all. So, the scroll?"

The world behind her exploded and Maggie cried out as she was hurled forward, her back and wings pelted by shrapnel.

 **X X X**

"Whoops," Brooklyn said. They had taken out the cannons, but it looked like Maggie had gotten more of the blast than Macbeth.

He had to dodge as the mercenaries opened fire. They had rifles, and apparently getting their big guns blown up had not been enough.

He followed Goliath's lead; this they could take care of.

 **X X X**

Maggie blinked the lights away from her vision and pushed herself up.

"My back," she griped. Yeah, felt like some bruises coming along.

She heard Macbeth talking, and lifted her eyes to the Scot pacing, reading the scroll.

"This is a diary?! Where are the spells?!" he demanded of the scroll. His back was to her. Maggie grinned.

He heard her coming, but he turned in time for her to slam into him. The scroll fell to the side, but she focused on the man. The enemy. She had been worried about Hudson. He had chained up Broadway!

And he was holding his stance. She hadn't been able to force him to the ground somehow, as he swung her around, killing momentum. All this, this body, all it cost, and she couldn't even beat an old man?!

A beast roared, and it was only his somewhat surprised expression that made her realize it had been her. She head-butted him, breaking the stalemate. He stumbled, but she had let him go in response to her own impact, stupid.

He drew something, a gun. Flash of light. He aimed low, not enough, ducking.

Falling to the ground, she struggled against the black edging in. She couldn't lose consciousness, and who was talking she wondered, face in the floor.

Oh, Broadway. Take who where?

Pushing herself back up, feeling inching back into her, not without pain though, she was greeted by Hudson offering her a hand.

"It's over, lass. Let's go," he told her.

"What happened?" she asked. Broadway came up next to her and offered a shoulder as they started walking toward a stairway to the wall. Looking around, she didn't see Macbeth. They won?

"Words. Words happened," Broadway answered.

"So it would seem," Goliath said. He had the scrolls.

"Huh," Maggie said by way of reply. If it was important, she'd find out later. For now, her stomach was growling, and she needed a proper mattress to curl up on.

"Ye did well," Hudson assured her as they reached the top of the wall.

Maggie frowned, wondering if she had, but nodded thanks. Flexing her wings, she decided the blast had not caused any functional problems, and leapt into the air. The clan gliding along, she flew off into the night.

 **X X X**

The fire was roaring in the hearth. Not for light, as the electric lamps provided that for the study. Macbeth found a real fire helped him think. Perhaps a tad of nostalgia for his youth. He did not care to ponder, it was enough that it work.

He stood now, holding a leather bound tome, a rarity unknown to most scholars. He had to dig it out of his true archive under the castle, which had been made to survive disasters like his battle with Goliath.

The scrolls were a disappointment, though the young Gargoyle had been correct - Merlin's words held value. Though he wondered how far they would travel. In his long life, he had noticed certain oddities long before that wretched Society approached him. Books like this, histories that included the gargoyle race not as myth but as simple facts, had been purged from human knowledge. Truthfully, his archive was secured more against those bookburners in its construction than the idea someone would set his castle afire.

This was an English work. A copy of a work even older than him, it included details, however sparse, of the gargoyles of England. Though written by a monk, it was rather even-handed, treating the matter more as conflict between peoples than a purge of demons like most of the other volumes on the near-extinct race.

The English gargoyles had been driven to extinction since before Macbeth was born. He had not questioned this, having witnessed the decline and destruction of gargoyles in Scotland. And surely, if they did live Demona would have found them and rallied them to her cause. But were they gone? Demona had not long lingered in Britain, fleeing to the Continent scarcely two decades after she betrayed him. Could she have assumed wrongfully, as he might have?

A disturbing thought. The girl may be the last of her kind, or there may be a clan, clans even, out there. Goliath's clan were Demona's enemies, and the lion girl with them he could assume was as well. But if there were greater numbers coming into play...

Demona had been a leader once. If there were gargoyles out there to sway to her cause, she would strive to do so. His quest was difficult enough with her alone!

He had not wished to tangle himself with Xanatos' petty ambitions, but that man was the likeliest and most easily found source on the gargoyles of Manhattan.

Taking a last look at an illumination of a lion-maned gargoyle breaking a spear against a knight's shield, Macbeth closed the book.

"I need answers," he affirmed.

 **X X X**

Cranley was not enjoying giving this report. Even more so because she was sure if she quizzed him, Mr. Xanatos would prove he really had been paying attention even as he sparred with Burnett in martial arts, of all things.

Grabbing a towel, the rich man cleaned the sweat off his face as he stepped off the tatami mat to address her.

"So all seems well with them."

"Correct. We can safely assume the transformations have completed. Moving forward, regular checkups will be required, of course, to see if any complications occur. We can only guess at lifespan, or fertility at this point. Though on the latter, if you could secure Reed..."

"Doctor Cranley, I must say you don't appreciate just what you would be dealing with if you were to seize one of Goliath's clan as a captive. And if you are implying some breeding program... well, that pushes rather past the boundaries of good taste," he remarked.

"You think they truly consider her one of them? They are not stupid - she is no closer to a gargoyle genetically than you or I, even now," she reminded him.

"If you think that is what matters to them, you really didn't learn much from those files. Is there anything else?" he asked. She was losing him, walking off to shower and change, a dismissal.

"I believe it's time to start Stage 2," she told him. That stopped him, and he turned to face her again.

"I was under the impression you would want further time to study the existing specimens?" he said.

"We need to test the new product to be sure it truly has the same results as Sevarius'. Also, a larger test group that can be more thoroughly studied in both transformation and maturation. Three is too small, especially with all men. Juveniles in particular would be very useful subjects. You have a setup in place, all that's left is to set it in motion, Mr. Xanatos," she told him.

Xanatos gave her a smile. Not a warm one, but not one of his condescending ones either.

"And I was a bit worried you might not have the nerve. Congratulations. Very well, but you will be working personally on the pitching, and I want you to involve Derek as well."

"What?" she answered dumbly.

"Consider it a multi-layer assignment. Before you sell to them, you have to sell him on your pitch. I have faith you can pull it off," he said, before closing the locker room door behind himself.

Taking a deep breath, Cranley adjusted her glasses.

 **X X X**

Brooklyn cleared his throat and smiled.

"So, Maggie, you went one on one with Macbeth. Or should I say mano e mano? Not many can do that. And if we hadn't blown you up a bit, you might have done even better! ...So anyway, great job out there. And, I mean, you were right about Hudson. Had you got there even quicker, maybe Macbeth would have never gotten that scroll in the first place," Brooklyn said, holding out a hand for a shake.

Lexington looked at the hand before raising his TechToday magazine defiantly over his face.

"Smooth as sandpaper," Lex rendered his verdict.

"Yes, I know Lex, that's why we practice," Brooklyn griped. He glared out at the city. Day would come soon, and Maggie was inside napping. She'd stir herself to see them off for the day soon.

"Buddy, you're overthinking it all, just go up there and give her a good pat on the back and congrats like anybody," Broadway put in, emerging onto the balcony.

"This coming from the guy telling me to take it slow," Brooklyn remarked.

"You just need a happy medium. It's like meat - not raw and bleeding, but not burned to a dry crisp. And add the right blend of seasoning and sauce, and you have the main course of a great meal right there," Broadway said, looking a bit wistful.

"Are those metaphors for gifts or something?" Lex asked, lowering his magazine.

"Metaphor?" Broadway asked. Rolling his eyes, Brooklyn walked across the balcony to the clock face door. Maybe he should just wing it?

"-Trust your instincts and eyes," he heard Goliath saying. Stepping in, he looked around and spotted Maggie at the foot of the stair. Goliath was talking with her.

"You acquitted yourself well against a formidable foe. And I know a day of fasting was not easy to endure beforehand. You did your clan proud, Maggie," Goliath declared.

Maggie lit up in surprise at those last words. Then seemed to settle something, he wasn't sure. But she looked very pleased. He could imagine Goliath smiling as he took Maggie's shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze, and she was smiling when she reached up and returned the gesture.

Without another word, Goliath turned to start climbing the stairs; yep, he was smiling. Then Maggie saw Brooklyn, some of that look fell away in favor of puzzlement. Not sure what expression he was wearing, he turned it into a smile and gave her a thumb's up.

Still looking a bit confused, she gave him a thumbs up of her own. At that point, he turned and walked back outside, maybe a bit faster than was normal.

 _The Next Night:_

Robbins set aside the paper as he sat back in his favorite chair. A good news day overall, but the safe return of the scrolls by an anonymous source was of course the clear winner. But he found himself less interested in such historic evidence than a feeling the story had kicked up in him. Not just that story, but his encounters with two mysterious Scotsmen and a young woman.

"Gilly, all this talk about the Scrolls of Merlin has gotten the old juices flowing. There may be a book in me yet."

Picking up his trusty tape recorder, Robbins cleared his throat and turned it on.

"The Sword and the Staff, Book of Merlin. The written word is all that stands between memory and oblivion. Without books as our anchors, we are cast adrift, neither teaching nor learning. They are windows to the past, mirrors of the present, and prisms reflecting all possible futures. Books are lighthouses erected in the dark sea of time."

Robbins smiled, thinking just maybe he still had the knack.

But of course a story was much more than just a good intro. He began to outlay the bare bones. A quest for knowledge lost to be regained. The center piece, an old soldier struggling not only with the task before him but age and a changing world, uncertain as to his worth even as he held to his pride. And against him, a force also seeking knowledge; yet for purposes far less noble.

"But the old soldier is not alone, we can ever truly be alone if we seek to be. By his side is a woman, perhaps a granddaughter? But regardless, she is inexperience and eagerness together. As the soldier carries the past in its enduring virtues passed down, she walks at his side with the promises of the future; the potential of a story yet to be written."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _This chapter was enjoyable. Macbeth posed a bit of a challenge but I think it came out well. Robbins proved a true treat to write._

 _As for the plot we see some advances and seeds planted as matters begin to diverge. And Maggie has had her first real taste of battle, and against no less than Macbeth._

 _Next chapter of course we have Titania's Mirror and all that comes with it. That will be a big challenge; but one I am looking forward too. And after that with the Silver Falcon we can start to really get some new ground covered._

 _Work continues on Queen of All Oni._

 _Thanks for reading. Long days and pleasant nights to you all._


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney's "Gargoyles".

Betaed by: Zim'smostloyalservant & Trackula.

* * *

Chapter 6

 **Reflections**

Claire bit her lip as she walked down the sidewalk. Realizing what she was doing, she opened her mouth enough to stop and just let her teeth clench.

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, that was simple, sensible. And had not been a good idea, she admitted as she took in the neighborhood. She had been though here before, but only during the day on foot.

Stupid pickpockets, she thought. No taxi or subway, so there she had been.

She could have called Mike, but she did not want some lecture on getting robbed. And it would of course lead into him talking about leaving New York, that the city was not the right place economically for a growing family, and too dangerous. She was sick of hearing it.

And she was pretty sure she hadn't gotten the job, either. The interviewer had not seemed very impressed with her.

She just needed to get home, get a sandwich or something, and get in bed. Except she wouldn't; she liked to remember days when she had to look for stuff to do.

Then she realized someone was walking behind her.

 **X X X**

Maggie watched from the rooftops, easily bounding the distance between them. The blonde woman was out of place and nervous; that made her a draw for predators. The man behind her was unshaven and breathing hard. Thin clothes looking worn thin. She guessed him for a junkie or some other kind of addict. Best to assume such men were particularly dangerous, because they could be unpredictable.

Still, he had yet to do anything. Until he made a move, it wasn't her place.

The woman bolted first. She had sensible shoes on, and seemed to surprise the stalker. When he froze, Maggie actually wondered if she had marked him wrong. Appearances can be deceiving was a valuable lesson.

"Bitch!" he shouted, and took off after her at a run.

Well, that resolved that. Maggie leapt from the rooftop and flew low, flapping to propel herself forward.

The street was deserted besides the two and the woman wasn't yelling, but still, she needed to be quick. The man had drawn a switchblade, which popped out as he held too far to his side. Probably worried if he tripped he would stab himself. So, experienced at this?

Okay then.

Maggie took a breath, and roared. She was not right behind the guy, but close enough. He stumbled and skidded a bit, turning around.

She hit the ground running and went past him before he could probably realize what he was seeing. On all fours, she put herself between him and his quarry, who was still running.

He practically ran into her, looking where he was going only to see her glaring at him, teeth bared and ready to pounce. Letting out a scream, he fell to the ground on his butt, dropping his knife. Staring at her wide-eyed, Maggie for a moment forgot what to do next.

Then he glanced to his knife. Maggie pounced, standing over the weapon, and growled at him, spreading her wings as she stayed on all fours. She was told it made her look bigger and scary.

Now he backed away on hands and feet. She took a step closer.

He bolted to his feet and ran clear across the street and down an alley.

Maggie smiled and stood up.

Then heard a step on the pavement. Turning, she saw the blonde woman had stopped. Holding a small spray bottle clutched in her right hand pressed against her chest, the well-dressed woman took a step back, staring at Maggie.

'Oh,' Maggie thought. She ran across the street on all fours and down the alley, as if pursuing the mugger. She stopped short once out of sight and listened to the woman scream and run away.

"Well, that could have gone better," Maggie muttered.

"It was well done," Goliath said. Maggie looked up and saw him looking over the edge of one of the buildings forming the alley. Leaping up, Maggie grabbed the pulled up ladder of a fire escape and pulled herself up. She might not be able to climb walls as well, but she had been picking up other ways to get around.

She was quickly on the rooftop, where Goliath glided over to her.

"You did well to protect the victim first."

"I let her see me, I shouldn't have stayed in the open so long."

"Yes, and grabbing the knife for disposal would have been a better use than standing there. But you protected, and without having to harm. It was well done, Maggie," he praised.

Maggie smiled, feeling warm at the praise. She really had done it, hadn't she?

 **X X X**

As expected, when they got back to the tower Goliath went off to talk with Hudson. Maggie went to the far end of the tower, where the training dummy was set up. Ignoring it for the moment, she went to the ledge where the amp detector was sitting. Grabbing the device, she tested it. No change.

"Maybe it's just a guy thing? That may have been a fluke," she mused. That would be very unfair, but then it had been Sevarius' work, so was it realistic to expect it to be fair?

And Goliath had praised her anyway. Maggie smiled at that. He really was one of a kind. If there were human leaders like him, the world would be a very different place. The thought of a human Goliath running for office was a bit amusing. Though she found herself more focused on what exactly a human Goliath would look like.

Handsome, very handsome, she decided, but strong. Like his voice. Though she admitted purple did suit him. The color of kings.

"Maggie!" Goliath said from behind her. With a very feline noise, she sprang a bit into the air. Eyes wide, she turned to see a rather surprised Goliath behind her.

"Did you not hear me?" he asked.

"…No," she admitted. That was weird, normally she'd overhear things on accident.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking her over. Maggie brushed down her dress; this was a newer one, still green, but pulled close with a belt. Hmm, she hoped it wasn't time to bathe again. The days of that being pleasant were behind her, it seemed.

"I guess I was just zoning out?" she admitted. Thinking about Goliath's face as a human. Though even a bit leathery and with the horns…

"Well, I wanted to know if you were ready to work alone tomorrow night."

"Oh, sure. If you think I'm ready," She said, walking back with him.

"I would not ask if I did not think you were ready, Maggie. Not only do I think you can handle street crime, but I think you have enough judgement to not reach too far. But there is no shame in a joint patrol until you have more experience," Goliath continued.

"May as well get it over with, though, right?" Maggie responded.

"Don't pay no mind to him beating the bush, lass. Goliath's a bit nervous for tomorrow night," Hudson said as they entered the main area. Maggie looked to Goliath inquiringly, and after a small frown he answered the unasked question.

"Elisa will be working undercover at the museum tomorrow night. I will be there to offer back up if Demona shows herself," Goliath said.

Maggie's eyes widened. Demona, Goliath's evil ex. And seemingly only rivaled by Xanatos for the spot of their greatest enemy. In fact, they first crossed paths with MacBeth because the enigmatic Scotsman was seeking revenge on the evil gargoyle. The fact that the clan did not really question that MacBeth likely had proper reason to want revenge on their former comrade spoke a lot on the lady gargoyle's character.

"Is that safe?" Maggie asked, "Why not take the whole clan?"

"Demona is crafty, and besides, we will not be alone in the museum. Stealth will be key to the first part. If she does show herself."

"Aye lass, sometimes less is more, as they say. And Goliath and Elisa are a fine team," Hudson spoke up.

"What is she after?" Maggie asked, reaching the bookshelf and pulling a book off.

"You know about the new exhibit? Treasures of Titania," Goliath asked. Maggie paused; the book she held was the great plays of Shakespeare, the cover being a depiction of Bottom and Titania in the forest.

"I read about it. Artifacts of uncertain origin attributed to Titania and other fey legends," she said.

"The mirror is what concerns us, lass, Titania's mirror. The Queen of the Third Race," Hudson put in, turning off the TV.

"Third Race? The Fey?" Maggie asked.

"Humans, Gargoyles, and Oberon's Children, the Three Races that share this world," Goliath continued, "In our clan, it was basic lore taught as readily as the sky and sea."

"The Third Race are known by many names. Some were even worshiped as gods by humans in olden days. As varied as the lands and seasons, some were blessings and others curses on those they crossed paths with. And some… well, they didna fit either role," Hudson explained.

"But they were all powerful. And while their presence seems to have faded from the world, their artifacts, even in our time, were known for holding great power. And Titania was second only to her husband Oberon; her mirror could hold great magic," Goliath said.

Maggie just nodded and took a seat. Hudson soon returned to his show and Goliath walked off to attend to something or other. Maggie sat on the couch, gripping the book tight and trying not to breath too hard, trying to tell herself it was no great step further for fairies to be real too. She was alright, it was just fine, she told herself, silently prying the book out of her sweaty palms.

Besides, it wasn't like Demona would get that mirror with both Detective Maza and Goliath protecting it. So moot point, no magic on display scheduled!

 _The Next Night:_

The gunshot still echoing in her head, Maggie touched down on a rooftop. Walking over to the water tower dominating the roof, she leaned against a support and ran her claws through her hair. She really should wash it, she noted. A real wash, not just the dry wash stuff she had been trying.

Her big find of the night had been a car theft in progress. No victim present, just a thief breaking the driver's window with a crowbar. He actually heard her sneaking up on him as he fiddled with the bar to clear enough glass to reach in and unlock it. He had dropped the bar and turned on her, whipping a gun out. Though clearly seeing a big cat glaring up at him baring her teeth had not been what he expected. He had fired as she pounced. A wild shot, nowhere near her, really.

She had choked him out as Elisa had taught her. Then left, grabbing the bar and weapons. She considered the crowbar, and decided to keep it. It was a tool, after all, maybe Lex needed one?

The pistol she had already ditched in a dumpster. Broadway had been very clear when she asked about weapons that the clan didn't use guns. She supposed it was a gargoyle thing.

Frowning, she held up her left hand and concentrated. Sparks flew in the night, but that was all. The mutate males had thrown around lightning, and she was little more than a joy-buzzer.

The shot, it intruded on her thoughts still.

Maggie sighed, deciding she probably shouldn't look for any more trouble tonight. The trio had made clear to her, away from Goliath and Hudson, that patrol wasn't just work. The city was home as well as a responsibility. Even confined to sky and shadows, there was a lot to take in. Brooklyn had offered to show her a movie theater they had found a reliable way to sneak into. She was regretting turning it down now.

She supposed she could go back to the tower or just fly around, but she did not really want to go back and worry over Goliath and Elisa's mission. And aimless wandering brought back memories.

What could she do, Maggie wondered, scratching her back a bit by rubbing it against the support.

Perking up, she smiled, noticing something she had been overlooking. Maybe that could work, she thought, scratching her chin as she pushed off the support.

 **X X X**

She had been raised to think of it as the base of an evil empire. A wrongfully venerated heresy of greed and arrogance of something that should be good and pure.

She was proud to say she still had a good bit of that Reds girl grit, but Yankee Stadium was nicely easy to peep on. Comfortably seated in the shadows and certain the lights would make it even harder for anyone looking in her direction to see anything, Maggie watched the game move into the seventh inning stretch.

She didn't care much for the visiting team, but her father had taught her well — "When in doubt, root against the Yankees."

Three innings later, the Empire was defeated for once, and she took to the air, unseen and feeling a bit better.

 **X X X**

Flying truly was wondrous, Maggie thought as she watched the city below her, making her way towards the tower. The wind pulling at her dress, and hair. Even the sensation of it through her fur. She had to admit, if she only had the wings without the fur, this would probably be real cold without the proper outfit.

Imagining a winged human bundling up for a flight distracted her from the last parts of the gloom until she spotted another figure in the sky. Only one was that big. Smiling, Maggie adjusted her course to intercept him.

"Goliath!" she called up, approaching the clan leader.

"Maggie, how went your night?" he asked.

"Attempted car theft. I took his gun and this crowbar. Do we need a crowbar?" she asked, pulling the tool from her belt.

"I, do not know," he admitted.

"…Did Demona show up?" Maggie asked as they flew on.

"Yes. She escaped, but without her prize," Goliath said. Though he seemed troubled.

"You think she'll try again?" Maggie guessed.

"She is not the type to give up," Goliath answered.

 **X X X**

"No, I already have a crowbar," Lex said as he looked away from the offered tool to return to the laptop connected to Coldstone. Maggie was not sure if it was a good idea to connect anything to an unstable cyborg who also had a heck of a virus, but then she didn't know much about it at all.

"Hey Maggie!" Broadway shouted as he entered the tower, Brooklyn behind him.

"Hey, how was it out there?" Maggie asked.

"Pretty quiet, sometimes this city actually seems to sleep," Brooklyn remarked.

"I stopped a car thief," Maggie said with a smile. And she really had, it occurred to her as she retold the brief story. Aside from a girl's little fantasies of fighting crime with superheroes, she had never thought she would be saying stuff like this.

Lots of the unexpected things in her life had been nightmares. But some, like flight, and this feeling now… well, it almost made her not regret coming to New York in the first place. For a bit.

"So, you taking up a weapon like Hudson?" Broadway asked.

"What?" Maggie asked, tilting her head.

"The crowbar," Brooklyn clarified, pointing to the tool she was still holding.

"Oh, I just thought Lex might need one," Maggie said.

"Does he?"

"No," Maggie said. She was starting to feel like it was stupid to hold onto the crowbar.

"Well, maybe it could work as a weapon," Brooklyn suggested.

"Why? She's plenty tough," Broadway pointed out.

"Oh, so using a weapon means yer not tough, does it?" Hudson asked, walking up.

"Uh, sun's going to be up soon," Broadway said, before making a beeline for the exit. Hudson gave a small grin and held out his hand for the crowbar. Maggie handed it over. Hudson considered its weight, gave it a swing, adjusted his grip, and even tested its balance with two fingers. All done with practiced ease, Maggie noted.

"It's not built to be a weapon, that's for certain, but it can certainly be used as one. Add to yer reach and hit hard. Still, I think you need to master unarmed combat first. And Elisa may be able to get you something actually made for fighting. She seems to have a forager's eye when she cares to," Hudson remarked.

Maggie wanted to insist she had only idly grabbed the thing as it might be useful as a tool. She hadn't picked it up fantasizing about knocking brains out with it like the Joker. But the sun was coming up anyway, so soon enough she was seeing them off to stone.

Still, as she made ready to endure her day, she opened the fridge, thinking on what Hudson had said.

The fridge was well stocked. Elisa ready did well providing for the gargoyles' needs and hers. How much money did she make as a detective?

When she had asked Goliath about taking money from defeated criminals, he had dismissed the notion. But did he fully understand that it wasn't a castle or a ridiculously rich guy paying what bills they had anymore? She had not been to Elisa's apartment herself. How did her fridge look? Her finances in general, supporting everyone who lived up here?

Her protein bar crumbles tasted a bit more lousy that day.

 **X X X**

Cranley removed her glasses to rub her eyes. Maybe she should have printed the files all out? Staring at the screen was starting to get to her eyes.

Repressing a yawn, she got up from her desk and walked to the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, she cupped her right hand under the cold flow, and once it filled up raised it to her lower face and drank the water.

Wiping her hand off with a paper towel, she pulled out a pill bottle and shook two pills out onto her damp palm. Putting them into her mouth, she filled up her hand again and swallowed them. It was going to be another long night.

Frowning, she moved into the stall and sat down on the toilet. Not to use it, just a different chair for the moment, while waiting for the chemicals to take the edge off of her annoying fatigue.

There had been a rich field of candidates. Those with the conditions that could be cured by the treatment, thus making them potential volunteers, crossed with those isolated and alone enough that they could be plucked off the grid so no one would notice.

Well, no one who mattered would notice.

And the children… yes, she could just imagine desperate, hopeless impoverished parents signing off on anything to prevent the lethal genetic legacy they had cursed their children with from running its course. It was their fault, after all, perpetuating faulty genes as they had. She would offer a chance to make up for their folly.

But Derek Maza would be a problem. Her interactions with him and the file made her certain he was just the type to put petty morality before the greater good. He would no doubt see even successful transformations as some kind of cursed existence. He might even advise them against accepting her offer.

So she needed him to be on the defensive from the start. She couldn't make the smart choice of early onset patients still strong and relatively healthy. No, to keep Maza on board, she would need to parade around wheelchair-bound sob stories and bedridden tragedies. Whose weaknesses might make them even less prone to survive.

Putting her glasses back on, Cranley got off the toilet.

It was workable, but it just meant more work for her. And why was Xanatos insisting Maza be involved to such a degree, anyway?

 **X X X**

The truck moved slowly through traffic. Proof, Derek supposed, that even Xanatos' level of money couldn't buy your way out of New York gridlock when you had rubber on the road.

He and the doctor had entered the windowless compartment in a secure garage at the base of the Eyrie building. The mundane looking vehicle had seemed out of place among some of the stuff so casually parked down there. But as Cranley remarked, sometimes all you really need is a truck.

So here they were, belted in on opposite sides of the compartment, seated on benches. The doctor was reading over papers from her briefcase, while he had set his newspaper aside. Scratching his chin, he looked to the wall next to him and tapped the steel with a knuckle.

"Feeling nostalgic?" Cranley asked. The doctor apparently was watching him while going over her papers; he had not made any noise with his tap.

"What?" he answered.

"I thought police, on occasion, rode around in rigs like this, with bug guns, helmets, and what not," she remarked drily.

"Did you read my file? I was a pilot, one of the best on the force. I was never even in SWAT, most cops aren't SWAT," he grumbled.

"Hmm," she muttered, not even looking up.

"So, Site B?" he asked.

"Yes, Gen-U-Tech received too much attention, and while the Eyrie building is a fun exercise in discretion amidst grandeur, a more practical facility is useful. The site is listed as Unbridled Tech. A testing facility for power armor, prosthetics, jet packs, and other experimental tech eccentricities. The company is real, in case you are wondering, its actual purpose has just been quietly outsourced to a facility upstate while this one has been modified for Legacy Project use primarily. The Eyrie building remains Site A importance, but here we can use a broader scale. And you, personally I imagine, would like having some option as to where you can live and work however nice the castle can be."

"…Have you made any progress? With a cure?"

"Yes, as I have been doing research, I can say I have. But if you mean, do I have a workable counter-measure in the pipeline? The answer is no. It is not simple or easy to unravel Sevarius' work, much less develop something to safely counter it. But that is why we are expanding operations, to speed up the process."

"More scientists?" Derek asked.

"More cooks do not a better kitchen make," she said coldly, actually looking up from her papers for a moment.

She really did have pretty eyes, even when angry, Derek noted.

"Though this will mean more lesser staff aiding in the busy work and assistance, yes. I assure you, there are very few capable of doing what I am doing, and fewer still both able to keep their mouth shut reliably, and with a proper ethical outlook for the work we are doing. Mr. Xanatos does not want a repeat of the Gen-U-Tech debacle, after all," Cranley said.

Derek sat back and nodded. He was no scientist, he couldn't really tell her how to do her job. And he had thought his life was over when Reed killed the doctor-

'So close!' the rage filled thought tried to edge in.

He needed to keep perspective. Keep his temper in check.

"It is weird, though. Up in the tower, it's like another world, same when we were hiding before you showed up, Doctor. But now, just a little bit of metal between me and the daytime rush of Manhattan. My dad could be walking down the sidewalk just a stone's throw away, and neither of us would know it."

Cranley frowned a bit at that

"Hmm, never cared much for my own father," she noted.

"Well, we have our problems. Namely, my dad's a hypocrite. He always insisted I follow the family business. Live up to his standards. 'Officer Maza' built his life and career off of walking out on his own father and abandoning those ideals, then thinks he can pull that 'be a dutiful son' routine on me? …Wonder how they're all holding up?" he pondered, looking back to the wall.

"Better than they would if they knew the truth," Cranley remarked sternly. Derek could only nod to that as traffic started moving again.

 **X X X**

Derek craned his head to take in the large indoor space. It looked like five stories hollowed out, only rung by balconies with doors leading into rooms built into the outer shell of this part of the structure. He wondered what exactly had been tested here.

"This area will be for the Chimeras, for both testing and residing on site. I think with flight, the former extravagant waste of space will actually become quite useful," Cranley said as they crossed the space. There were employees walking around too. Mostly men in brown jumpsuits with stylized UT on the black pockets. But he had seen men and a few women lurking around wth blue and grey body armor and plexiglass masks and helmets hiding their faces. They all took time to get a look at him. Not that he could blame them. Reaching a metal door painted brown with the words "Research and Examination" painted in red on it, they exited the atrium.

Derek was brought up by the abrupt shift, as the door closed behind them and now they stood in unremarkable office space. Most of the desks they passed looked out of use, even. Reaching the other side of this room, they entered an office labeled E. Cranley.

It was… sterile, Derek noted. The desk was clean, with only three black blocks, presumably paper weights, in a corner and file cabinets and a safe failing to fill the space between the blank walls. There wasn't even a window, though that made sense, he supposed.

As Cranley took a seat at her desk, Derek took a seat in a plastic chair set across from it. Not very good quality; it creaked under him and was not at all comfortable. Hers at least swiveled, he saw as she sat and pulled papers out of a drawer.

"Mr. Maza, now that we have concluded our little tour, it's time we discussed Stage 2," she said, handing him a stack of files thicker than most novels he had seen.

 **X X X**

Derek hadn't finished reading the stack. The top one had finally explained more about Stage 2, and he had torn through it after realizing what he was reading. The he read one of the files on a "candidate" just to be sure.

He smacked that file onto the desk, and Cranley looked up from whatever she was reading on her clipboard. She didn't raise an eyebrow or anything — she had been expecting him to be angry!

And he was.

"This, is Stage 2?" Derek growled.

"Yes. Stag 1 of examining and observing you, the existing specimens, has yielded all we could hope for at this time for the medium term. Long term observation is still arranged, of course, but if we want our research to progress, we must extend-"

"You want to do this to more people!" Derek shouted, putting a fist to his chest.

"…Yes. And I would thank you to not make this more difficult, Mr. Maza," she remarked coldly. That made Derek sit back down in his chair.

"You dislike human experimentation. Well, so do most people, but the fact is we can only learn so much without doing so. Observing a transformation will teach us much. It will confirm, for instance, that we have indeed recreated Sevarius' formula, a confirmation that will be a major step to developing a potential reversal.

"And do not compare me to the mad scientist. These people will be volunteers. As you might have read there, Mr. Riessen suffers from a genetic disorder that has already left him bedridden and will see him dead at the ripe age of 46 in less than a year, likely. Everyone in that stack is beyond the help of medical science. Save for what we have here.

"Assuming that our research does fail to produce a cure soon, we are not robbing people of human lives, we are offering them 'life'. And for some, they barely consider their current condition living."

"And this, you think, is any kind of life?" Derek asked, waving to take himself in. Cranley closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Pushing her chair back, she opened her eyes and stood up.

"Come with me, Mr. Maza," the doctor commanded.

 **X X X**

Cranley stood in front of the two-way mirror, which still managed to reflect her annoyed expression.

"Really, Mr. Maza, they can no more see through this than the pedestrians could through the truck earlier," she admonished. The observation room was small, the only furniture being a long desk bolted down in front of the spying mirror, with three chairs at it. Frankly, with these cramped confines, it was unlikely lurking in that corner would hide the large panther man anyway.

"Isn't this risky?" he defended his actions.

"No. And apparently you need to see this. Some of our potential candidates are here right now. Free hospital beds are not easily refused, after all. Ah, time for some exercises," she said, turning her attention back to the patients.

She didn't smirk as the chimera made his way behind her. He moved superbly quietly, but she could watch through the glass. He loomed over her own form, an almost artistic comparison of his might vs a frail humanity.

Brushing aside idle thoughts, she decided it was time to be quiet, let Maza take it in like the guilt-prone man he seemed to be.

When he noticed the boy, she didn't even see any anger in his eyes. Surprise, yes, but then sadness at the struggle to simply exit the room for physical therapy. She had considered a little girl, but felt that might have pushed a tad too far. Chivalry and all that? Well, this seemed to work.

And now…

"So, Mr. Maza, how much life do you see in that room?" she remarked curtly. And a bit louder than normal. She had turned around to speak with him, and had underestimated how close he was — she had practically put her face into his chest. The unplanned near-contact made her pause, reevaluating. The doctor didn't even glance up to see if he had noticed her actions losing sequence.

"One kind of life. The determined kind," a new female voice said.

Derek jumped, and Cranley flinched at the movement as he whirled around, wings going wide, and nearly hit her in the face.

"Bit of a fraidy cat?" the arrival said, chuckling. Cranley grabbed the edge of one of Derek's wings and pushed it aside, which thankfully made the man himself move too.

The new arrival was in a wheelchair, wearing a blue hospital gown that did nothing to conceal she looked like… well, like someone who was dying. Aside from that wasted appearance, the main trait to show through was her sickly pale skin, somewhat curly shoulder-length light brown hair, a slightly prominent nose, and brown eyes that twinkled in amusement as she grinned and clasped her hands in her lap, watching Maza. She wasn't alone, the sole woman of Xanatos' personal security force standing behind her, hands on the handles of the wheelchair.

"You couldn't have announced yourself first?" Cranley asked. This subterfuge was annoying. She could only hope this candidate stuck to the script — some things in the file didn't exactly inspire confidence.

"And lose the element of surprise? Don't worry, Officer Maza, I'm not going to freak out. I've seen plenty of pictures and videos. I am, as you might say, in the know," the wheelchair-bound woman chuckled. Cranley glanced to Derek, who seemed befuddled. The woman was looking him up and down, with no effort to hide her interest.

Cranley cleared her throat. This was her show, after all.

"Mr. Maza, meet Anna Raskin, formerly of the Israel Defense Force, more recently of private security forces," Cranley introduced the woman. Raskin gave a cocky grin and held out a hand for Maza to shake. With some hesitation, Maza took and shook the hand. It fit in his nicely, Cranley thought, appreciating the contrast of his strong grip and the trembling appendage of the dying woman.

"I didn't think Israel had women for combat troops," Maza remarked.

"Who says I saw combat? Lots more to running a military than shooting people, or even blowing them up," Raskin remarked. She did not let Derek pull his hand back, Cranley noted. Even though Maza could easily break the grip, he just awkwardly let her keep a grip on him.

"Uh, you seem like someone who's seen action. You remind me of the vets on the force," Maza managed. Her grin turned into a smile at that, and her free hand started to stroke the fur-covered arm, feeling over it.

"Glad I haven't lost everything to this. And you're right, officially there aren't female combat troops, though I don't think that will last much longer. My work was… rather unofficial, even when I was still defending the honor of Israel. Not that I have much work lately. My main concern was having enough grit not to swallow my old piece and get out of this chair. But some old connections," She let Derek go and raised her hand to get a very gentle version of a high five from the woman behind her, "Put a good word in for me with this. I have to say, seeing it's real in the flesh is something."

Raskin chuckled, before having to clear her throat. Any mirth was gone by the time she was ready to talk again.

"I meant what I said, Mr. Panther. About these people being determined. They've all heard the same thing from a lot of people with doctorates for this and that. That they are doomed. That if they can be cured, there isn't one on the horizon and the future would come too late for them anyway. The people who nodded and accepted that, whether with dignity or whining, they're not out there. These people, they heard that and kept looking, rather than give up. Heh, you think they aren't worried about a secretive set up like this? That they haven't chatted and realized they are all the kind of people that could vanish and few would notice and most wouldn't care? They were probably warned about being duped. But here they are! In spite of the risks, secrets, and all those qualified people telling them to make their peace. Still ready to go another round, just to see if they can make it rather than throw in the towel with dignity," Raskin explained.

Derek didn't know what to say to that. He looked out to the room; the patients were gone now, only workers in scrubs were left preparing the room for the patients' return.

"You don't have to convince me. But it was nice to see the face of this in the flesh," Raskin continued.

"So, good luck then?" Derek asked, glancing back at her.

"Heh, apparently it's going to be multiple operations at once. I'm not going until we have more volunteers. You're lucky I can't get up, otherwise I'd be rushing you along. The waiting is always the hardest part," Raskin muttered as she was pulled back out the doorway and wheeled away.

…

"Well, that's one down. So, are you willing to do this, or should I call in your charming associate?" Cranley asked dryly.

 **X X X**

"I think you laid it on a bit thick," Cranley said, pouring the amber liquid with frowning precision.

The bottle was not her usual adornment, and her glass had water in it. She passed the shot of brandy to the pale, trembling hand, and took her pill bottle out of a pocket. As Anna struggled to drink without spilling a drop, Cranley used the water to wash down the pills.

"He's not that smart. Sometimes you leave clues, sometimes you leave breadcrumbs. Also, I'm not an actress, and you asked me because you're probably worse at this than me. I, at least, could talk guys into my bed. Can you say that?" Anna grumbled.

Cranley put the bottle back into a desk drawer in answer to Raskin holding the glass out for another. She smoothy plucked the glass from the weak fingers and placed it next to its twin on her desk.

"We'll call it adequate, as he did agree. Hopefully the genuineness of the others will ease any doubts."

"Unless they have heart attacks. Though that might count as a win, as their conditions won't kill them," Anna mused.

"Your role is done on this phase. Rest and follow the doctors' instructions until we are ready to inject you," Cranley dismissed her. Pressing a button under her desktop, the door opened and a guard walked in. Not the woman this time, a fact Anna took notice of. He was wearing the standard uniform, not the elite forces Cranley knew Anna had ties with.

Anna looked back to Cranley as she was wheeled out.

"Just remember, lion! If I'm going to be an animal, I want to be a lion!" the woman demanded as she was whisked away into the facility.

Cranley considered selecting cougar, but decided to humor the woman. In the unlikely event she lived, such petty revenge would not be practical.

Besides, there was no faulting the woman's good taste.

Taking a deep breath, the doctor was sure she felt the pills taking effect. She would need to meet up with Maza one more time to make sure he was settled. Then a meeting with the project staff, which should not be needed but the latest incompetent blunder proved was. Another long day and night, but she would handle it like always.

Soon, soon they would really begin, she thought, letting an earnest smile light up her face as she pushed back from her desk.

 **X X X**

Demona had the mirror. Elisa had told them that hours ago at sunset. Maggie had heard beforehand when Elisa came up.

Maggie sat on one of the catwalks, legs dangling over the edge, her tail flicking behind her. She watched the others below; Elisa was conferring details of what had happened. Demona had been smarter than them. They had assumed she would be alone, but she had minions. So Demona had minions? Well, that was terrific.

Maggie frowned, wondering if Goliath was thinking what she had been thinking. They should have brought more of the clan to intercept Demona. As it was, last night Demona had escaped and gotten the mirror.

And Elisa seemed to not really be taking this seriously, Maggie thought, looking down at the detective.

Elisa Maza was a great woman, but Maggie had a sinking feeling she was not taking magic seriously as a threat here. Maybe that was unfair and the detective just had a great game face? But if Goliath and Hudson were worried, it was time to grab a helmet, as far as Maggie was concerned.

Huh, would a helmet be a good idea, she wondered?

"Mirror or no mirror, Demona is no match for all of us together. We just have to wait until she makes her move," Elisa said.

Maggie had barely been paying attention to Elisa's words, but a sudden shift in the air made her pause. Her cat side reared up, and her fur raised in warning. The instant surge of wrongness had her looking frantically all about the tower for some invisible threat she couldn't even give voice to, when a gasp from Elisa took all of her focus. She seemed to stumble and a thick cloudy radiance seemed to form around her like a blanket, blocking all but her silhouette from view.

Everyone in the room was too stunned to even step towards her before her body was lifted up by whatever invisible force had taken hold of her. Maggie, as the closest, and the one who'd already been bracing for something to happen, was the first to move, nervously reaching out for the detective's ankle. But before contact could be made, the sun seemed to explode from within the tower, with Elisa at its epicenter. Even with her eyes screwed shut, and her forearms guarding her face, Maggie could still see the light burning. And just as quickly, the flare dimmed to nothing.

Her eyes were full of colored spots as she rubbed at them, hissing at the pain and blindness.

'What was that?!' she thought. It wasn't a bomb, a flash bomb? No one else was screaming. Was this an attack?

Her ears cocked as she heard the clan gasp. Forcing her eyes open, she grabbed the rail and blearily looked down below.

What she saw made no sense.

A gargoyle, a lady gargoyle. Not a redhead, so not Demona.

'And where did she even get clothes cut right for a — oh crap, that's Elisa?!' Maggie realized, her eyes widening painfully.

The skin was a certain dark yellow, maybe copper, Maggie thought as she came into focus more. No horns, but visible fangs. Pointed ears, tail, claws, big gargoyle feet. And wings. As Maggie watched, a stunned Goliath walked up to Elisa and with a brief bit of hesitation gently grabbed one of Elisa's apparent wing claws.

She was envious that he could so readily confirm this was really happening or not.

The touch seemed to bring Elisa out of whatever daze the woman was in. Maggie watched her face positively beam as it was split by the biggest smile Maggie had ever seen on the detective. Maggie would later decide it was an expression of satisfied glee. For now, Maggie focused on the fact her jaw couldn't drop at the next words because she realized it was already hanging open.

"Goliath, this is wonderful! You've been turned into a gargoyle!" Maza cheered, jumping on him in an embrace.

Maggie's jaw clicked shut, and she pulled one end of the railing out of its port with a pop.

"Wha?" Maggie gurgled.

Maggie stopped listening, or maybe she just wasn't hearing. Ducking under the broken railing, she leapt the story down to the main floor, her wings spreading to slow it and her legs perfectly taking the remaining impact. Sound came back as she waked up to Elisa, who was arguing with the clan about the fact of who had been what.

Maggie was focused and stayed on two feet. Elisa noticed her and with a frown turned to meet the advancing mutant.

"Maggie, back me up here?" Elisa asked, sounding a tad desperate.

Maggie reached Elisa, looked her gargoyle self square in the eyes, and grabbed Elisa's currently pointed ears. They felt like soft leather, quite warm, smooth even. And real.

Frowning, Maggie let Elisa'd ears go, ignoring the detective's stunned outrage, and slapped herself across the face.

"Maggie!?" Brooklyn shouted. Maggie held up her other hand, extending one finger until she winced from the pain, then did a backswing of a slap with the same hand, getting the other cheek.

"Ah, yeah. Real and awake. Crap, crap, crap," Maggie muttered, rubbing her stinging cheeks.

"Easy there," Elisa said, stepping up. Maggie gave her a slight glare; the latest mind-blowing weirdness getting in her face to comfort her did not strike her as helpful. Though she let Elisa pull her hands down to check and make sure her face wasn't injured.

Goliath cleared his throat, reminding both women he was still standing right next to them. He spared a look at Maggie, getting her attention, but shifted his attention back to Elisa.

"Elisa, how did we first meet? Do you remember that?" Goliath asked.

Maggie had not heard too many details on their exact meeting, so wariness aside, she looked at Elisa for the answer. The false gargoyle looked a bit hurt at the question.

"How could I forget?" she said. Maggie took the tone for her wanting to say 'how could you ever think I could forget?'.

"You and Bronx surprised me at the castle. I fell, and you saved me."

Maggie raised an eyebrow, imagining the indomitable detective flailing and falling before "monsters" like some damsel in distress. It was not easy to imagine. Had Goliath been in war mode or something at the time?

"Why would I have to save you if you had wings of your own?" Goliath asked, holding Elisa gently by the shoulders. He hadn't let go since he'd shed her off the hug from earlier, Maggie noted.

Elisa frowned, the expression made a bit "more" by the fangs poking out. She glanced back at her wings, flexing them slightly.

"What are you talking about? I can't glide on these... Can I?" the detective asked. Goliath smiled, and Maggie hoped this was not going where she thought.

 **X X X**

That was exactly where it was going, as it turned out, Maggie thought, hands on her hips as Goliath stood next to Elisa, who was looking over the railing of the tower wth a clear lack of enthusiasm.

"It would be better to leave her here," Maggie stated.

"I doubt it in this confused state," Goliath said. Elisa frowned, clearly not liking to be talked about like se wasn't there. She looked to Hudson, hoping for support from the elder. Hudson was frowning, but he did not speak up.

So, his judgement was held in reserve.

This was stupid, Maggie thought. Assuming Elisa would even be willing, it had taken her how long to fly? And why were they even doing this? If the detective was out of it in her head and in a new body, she should be kept safe, not going out!

Maggie turned back to the railing at the trio's gasps. She turned to see Elisa and Goliath rising, riding the winds.

"…Not fair," Maggie declared flatly.

 **X X X**

They followed a respectful distance behind Goliath and Elisa by some unspoken command. Maggie kept her eyes on Elisa, watching her glide with some trouble, but still capably. Mulling it over, Maggie wondered if she was more irritated by the fact the other woman had picked up flying right off, or the fact everyone seemed to just take that as if it was to be expected.

The detective was the most impressive woman Maggie had ever met. So she could admit, if anyone could just roll into this insanity it would be her.

Still, Maggie couldn't deny she did not like this.

She watched the detective deal with an updraft and Goliath stay on assurance, a fine coach.

She rolled her eyes when Maza teased Goliath for complimenting her looks. Typical pretty girl antics; she hadn't gotten so much attention she would have risked it by being catty with it.

Ugh, now she was nothing but catty and wouldn't get any attention.

Distracted, she was taken by surprise when the detective freaked out and hastily veered rom course to land ion a rooftop.

"What now?" Maggie growled, pulling ahead of the others to join the duo on the rooftop.

"Did you all see that?! The people, they've all been turned into humans!" Elisa exclaimed with horror. The clan groaned, and Maggie closed her eyes, wondering if maybe she should have stayed at he tower instead.

"No, no, no, no," Goliath muttered, face-palming.

At this rate, she was going to scream at nothing in particular. The only reliable human in her life was not just mutated, but her mind was a mess and possibly useless.

'What next? Really, what next?!' Maggie mentally berated er life.

A flare of light made her turn. An ominous green glow was coming from the top of one of the Twin Towers.

'Ah, here it is,' Maggie thought.

"What is that?" Broadway wondered.

"It could only be Demona," Goliath answered. He took to the air, making a beeline for the tower, the rest of them following after.

Save for one. Maggie glanced back for a moment, confirming that the detective was still on the rooftop, caught at the edge. Yes, Goliath had to ease that lunge. Maggie was a bit ashamed to feel some satisfaction at Detective Maza not picking it all up quite as quick as that.

But she decided it was for the best. Their friend was out of sorts, there was no need to throw her into a battle like this.

 **X X X**

Demona lowered her forearm as the light faded and smiled.

There were no screams, no explosions. The city actually looked peaceful. And it was.

She let the smile pull her mouth wide. She thought this feeling may have been what she once felt long ago in Scotland when killing human bands. When she had naively thought such things could stem the tide of humanity. True, even this was little more than a drop plucked from the bucket, but it was progress.

If she focused on the densely populated urban centers, this could make quite a dent if she kept at it. And why wouldn't she? After all, inefficient as it was, an immortal was blessed with a lot of time to kill.

But she did not feel like contemplating the future at the moment. For now, she would revel in this victory. Perhaps a stroll down 5th Avenue? Or just walking back to her house?

"Take me to my empty city, Puck!" she commanded, turning away from the view.

Puck laid flat on his back, eyes closed, seemingly knocked out. Frowning, Demona walked over to the bound fey and looked him over. He had said this was pushing his limits, so exhaustion was understandable. But she did not really trust him to not pull some prank from this. Because of course he would want to soil her good mood.

Slipping the tip of her tail under his shoulder, she lifted his body about two inches and dropped it back to the rooftop.

No reaction. Maybe he was not faking?

A wrecking ball slamming into her and trying to grab hold distracted her from musing. Evading the grapple with practiced reflex, she rolled away from the impact and saw her attacker get his own footing. The Elder, angry.

"You're too late this time, old soldier!" she declared. Yes, she had overlooked that they would be in her empty city. It was too much too hope they would accept it as an improvement.

"You can't take us all on, lass," the Elder said.

Demona watched Goliath glide in to join them and had to agree. And another? Oh yes, the fake she had heard about. Her frown deepened, but the elder was right. Sparing a glare for the cat-faced human, Demona turned her heel and ran. The Hunter had done her a service of sorts, long ago. Over the dust of shattered gargoyles, he had destroyed any pride that would make her question retreat as a valid tactic.

"Curse you, Puck, this is no time for sleeping," Demona cursed. The Son of Oberon was light, at least; she wondered if he had bird bones. The mirror, that was heavier and awkward to fly with, nigh impossible with Puck in hand.

But Goliath knew it was important.

Grabbing Titania's piece of vanity, Demona carried it with her to the ledge one-handed and chucked it over the side before taking the leap into the air herself.

The cries behind her told her the tactic worked. At least one less pursuer.

 **X X X**

Hudson went for the mirror at Goliath's shouted command, while Maggie dived after Demona with the rest. Demona went fast, recklessly so in Maggie's view, but the evil gargoyle pulled out to glide above but still too close for comfort to street level.

"What the heck?!" Maggie gasped. She must have seen it before the others, as despite her concern, she pulled out of the dive fast.

Gargoyles, the street was teeming wth gargoyles, like, like, a Manhattan street. Even dressed the part!

"The spell, but this time for the city," she heard Goliath say. That snapped Maggie's attention from the otherworldly scene below back to the chase. Demona folded up her wings as she watched, and dived down a subway entrance with the fey. Could it be Puck? Demona called him Puck on the roof.

The trio were the first into the tunnel, and Goliath pulled back, landing on the first stairs, catching himself. Not expecting him to stop like that, Maggie folded her own wings and tried to land; she hit the stairs on all fours and let momentum carry her. She slipped under Goliath's left wing and around.

'Oh, that worked,' the former human realized, and rather than stopping, ran past the three crashed gargoyles on the stairs down into the subway station on al fours. Reaching the bottom, she looked around, ears perked.

It was full of gargoyles, and a train was arriving. In seconds, this place would be packed with people coming off, and and people moving on! Demona blended in, but she still had that red hair, and Puck, she had to look hard and-

"Really, bad enough to be in public like that, but on all fours?" a gargoyle man in a blue T-shirt said, stopping as he walked by.

"It's New York, Hal," his companion said, before they continued on. She watched a gargoyle woman turn a kid's curious face away from her and give her a stern look. Feeling sheepish, Maggie stood up.

"Nice figure, shame she's a furry," another voice said from the crowd.

"Is she promoting a movie or something? Cause that's Hollywood level stuff she's wearing."

Maggie was grateful for fur to cover the heat rising in her face as she heard what was being said in the crowd.

"It's like finding a needle in a haystack," Broadway said, as he arrived with the others. Maggie watched the train leave, and guessed Demona was on it, for even money. Not that it did much good.

She watched the boys react as three gargoyle women walked by and gave them appreciative looks. Why not? They were, in this case, three fit young men barely dressed in public.

One of the women gave her an eye roll.

"I hate this night," Maggie hissed.

 **X X X**

"Doctor Cranley, what should we do with him?" the blue-skinned guard with the beak face asked. Cranley tucked a piece of her blonde hair back behind one of her horns and straightened her glasses. Stepping up to where Maza groaned on the floor, she poked him in the cheek with her tail.

Sevarius had been a fool in many ways; this mutation was only superior to proper gargoyles in that it escaped petrification by daylight. Granted, that was a massive boon.

"His mental breakdown was not entirely unexpected. The brain is rather delicate to be put through such a process. Secure him, but comfortably. Inform me when he wakes up," she ordered, kneeling down to pluck the darts from his chest.

Her claws lingered on his chest. Something felt... off.

Shaking her head, she dismissed the notion and sent them scurrying off. Delusional hallucinations or not, Maza was a valuable subject.

Still, she swept into a bathroom and took a good look at the white-skinned gargoyle with a matching coat on and blonde hair pulled back behind her four horns. He had claimed she was human. Just trying to imagine herself as such a weak, disgusting creature…

She forced the thought from her mind; it should not be disturbing. Utter nonsense deserved no more attention or thought than anything spewed by homeless doomsayers on the street corners. When all gargoyle kind stood to benefit from her research, she could not be distracted by such petty things as a subject's sudden mental degeneration beyond the clinical problem it was.

 **X X X**

They met back at the rooftop where Elisa waited. The detective was not upset about being left behind, it seemed, and like the rest of them was troubled that the people had been transformed.

They had all gathered near the mirror, as if the artifact would offer some insight. Up on this roof, it occurred to Maggie that they could do this down on the sidewalk and they'd only attract attention for her own appearance and obstructing the foot traffic. She decided not to point that out as Brooklyn questioned what they could do with the mirror.

"I just can't see why Demona would do… this," Elisa said, holding up one of her clawed hands.

"Well, I think there's an obvious answer," Maggie said. The others looked to her, and Maggie blinked.

"What do ya think, lass?" Hudson asked.

"Well, Demona went insane because your clan was wiped out and your race becoming extinct since, right? Well, just look at these results. At the very least, every human in Manhattan has become a gargoyle. The gargoyle race has, in one night, gone from imminent extinction to maybe a bigger population than it had back in the tenth century. They even consider themselves gargoyles now. Is it so hard to believe she wants to save your race and she has done just that?" Maggie asked.

"No, I'm sorry Maggie, but that is not the answer," Goliath sighed. The others looked dejected, and Maggie pressed her ears down at having messed up, "Another gargoyle might do as you suggest, but Demona loathes humanity enough she would kill her own kind rather than relent. Even a human who sought this transformation knowingly and with utter sincerity, she would never see them as 'worthy' to be a gargoyle."

Maggie wondered if they were saddened at the reminder that a member of their clan was as insanely hateful as Goliath described. Hudson spoke up next.

"It's a fool's dream anyway, lass. This sorcery is the trickery of the Third Race; little if any good can come of it. Hmm, I wonder why panic hasn't spread, either? Surely some human from out of range should have crossed the line, or a transformed left. And what bout the televisions?" Hudson wondered.

"It's magic, that's why," Broadway declared, which earned him an annoyed look from Lexington.

"What if it is a trick? But not Demona's? You said she called him Puck. Well, in Midsummer Night's Dream, Puck was a harmless trickster, but he caused chaos by misunderstanding his orders. Maybe the real Puck is like a jackass genie? Demona has him in chains, can't imagine he's happy about that. Maybe every order she gives him he twists around to frustrate her? Such as, I want Manhattan to be a human free zone?" Elisa said, gesturing to the city. Goliath nodded, taking a grim expression.

"Or perhaps wishing the human Elisa Maza disappeared from the Earth," he rumbled. Elisa looked taken aback at that, and glanced to her wings, flexing them.

"Huh, I'm used to rules lawyering working against me," she said.

"Puck was knocked out by the last spell, it probably takes a lot out of him, like a battery," Lexington guessed.

"And once it's recharged, Demona might be more specific," Brooklyn speculated.

"Death. She'll wish for people to die," Broadway finished, clenching his fists.

"Crap," Maggie swore. Hudson tapped the mirror frame, getting their attention.

"Do you think breaking the mirror might free Puck? I cannae say I fancy a Child of Oberon running amok, but between the unknown and Demona, I know which horse I would ride," the old warrior said.

"No, if it could, Demona would not have risked it. The fact she tried to destroy it is all the more reason to keep it intact. We must find Demona before she can bring Puck's power to lethal effectiveness."

"Maybe we should call the police?" Elisa asked. Maggie had to admit it was fun seeing all the boys so stunned, and she got it, so spoke up for them.

"NYPD is all gargoyle now. Why not report her as a terrorist or something, get a dragnet going for her as armed and dangerous?" Maggie said, picking up Elisa's thought. Goliath only considered it a moment.

"No, no. We can't risk such a thing. They would be as disoriented as Elisa was. Even if they could find Demona, it would be too risky to send those befuddled by magic against her. We will search ourselves — I expect either Demona or Puck will reveal themselves in short order," he said.

Maggie nodded to that and hopped onto the ledge of the roof, crouched and ready to fly. Elisa made to step up next to her, but looking down, the detective stepped back. Maggie found it odd that the magic seemed to make the detective better at flying, yet didn't give her the tolerance for leaping. Maybe learning the old fashioned way was better — Maggie had at some point noticed her own fear of heights had withered.

"I'll never get used to this," Elisa declared. Maggie smiled at that; she could vouch for just what a woman could get used to.

"I will always be there to catch you," Goliath assured Elisa sweetly. He took to the air, and performed an impressively tight maneuver on the updraft in front of them, coming to nearly hover at eye level with Elisa.

"See, nothing to it," he assured the nervous detective.

Green light exploded behind Maggie, and before she could turn, a bolt of green shot between her and Elisa to strike Goliath. Maggie tried to register what she was seeing, then Goliath screamed and fell.

She sprang, diving down after him. Human Goliath? Irrelevant. Falling Goliath, DO SOMETHING.

He reached for her as she fell back to the approaching pavement. Maggie caught him in an embrace and her wings spread. He was heavy. She barely pulled out of the dive and frantically flapped to avoid losing the air as the momentum died on ascent.

Gritting her teeth, feeling like she had pulled something in her back, Maggie flapped back to the roof level, where a stunned Elisa was waiting. Maggie gratefully handed Goliath off to Elisa's waiting claws, who helped ease him onto the rooftop.

'Oh look, all the gargoyles are now humans. Isn't this fun, Maggie?' Maggie thought, setting down on the roof.

"Elisa! This is wonderful, you've been turned into a gargoyle!" the handsome, scantily clad human Goliath shouted happily.

Maggie pressed her face into her palm and counted to ten before coming to Elisa's aid at explaining things to not one but five confused gargoyles turned human.

 **X X X**

"What did you DO?!" Demona roared at Puck, holding him up by his chains. The two stood in an alley whose mouth opened on a busy street. If any of the pedestrians heard her, they ignored it with practiced ease.

"Only what you asked," Puck said, trying to look innocently confused.

"I can see the fake gargoyles right there!"

"Oh you didn't say these gargoyles, you just said gargoyles! I assumed you meant Goliath and his clan. Silly, silly Puck," he grinned. Demona pulled back her hand, closing it into a fist.

"Now wait, I think you might be failing to grasp the full implications!" he shouted, eyes widening. Demona lowered her fist slightly.

"After all, right now Goliath and his entire clan are weak, frail little humans. Easy for you to crush with your bad gargoyle self."

Demona considered his words and grinned. Yes, it was a rare opportunity, wasn't it? And delicious irony — Goliath, whose weakness toward humans had doomed the clan, was currently trapped in a human body. He would be easy to kill. And not just because of the loss of his magnificent strength.

She needed to find him, take to the air. Stepping up to the alley wall, she sized up the ascent by reflex, and Puck cleared his throat.

"What do you think you are doing?" the irksome fey asked. He looked like he was witnessing something annoyingly stupid. She dreaded to answer and be subjected to more of his so-called wit.

"Going to hunt him down," she told him.

"Mhmm, might I suggest an alternate route?" he asked, turning to gesture to the alley mouth with his chin, where more wretched humans-turned-gargoyles were walking by, "I am just saying, earlier I touched a nerve by pointing out you couldn't sashay down the sidewalk. And now you can get out there as your bad gargoyle self, dreading nothing more than wolf whistles and maybe a bit of sexual harassment. And frankly, I don't think that will be much of a problem — after all, this is Manhattan. Your outfit will hardly be the most revealing or strange thing they've seen tonight."

"Go out amongst humans? Why would I?"

"Umm, care to consider an eye exam for your next wish, oh befuddling master of mine? Because presently the only humans on this island are former gargoyles… Hmm, even for me, that's an odd sentence," Puck remarked. Anger simmering, Demona marched up to him and grabbed him by the chains across his chest to hold him close and glare into his eyes.

"They are no true gargoyles. Surely even you can see that?" she demanded coldly.

"Hmm, why not enlighten me?" he said, raising an eyebrow with a smile and that twinkle in his eyes. She tossed him hard into the wall; while that got her a grunt, he simply sat tidily on the pavement among the litter, looking up at her expectantly.

Demona considered simply ignoring him and moving on. But, she found she did want to explain. Seeing those… things, had rattled her as little had in a century.

"Humans and gargoyles are fundamentally different, Puck. Your race, the Children of Oberon, seem to be defined by power more than anything else. Wicked, vicious, honorable, or tricksters, all of you have in common that you have the power to do as you please far more than anything else on the world."

"Hmm, not entirely accurate, but a better reasoned label than many I've heard."

"Gargoyles are defined by duty, to the clan. Gargoyles will die, will endure near any hardship or humiliation, for the sake of their clan. We mate for life; gargoyles do not stray from their mate while both yet live. Or while they believe both live. Even the flawed tradition to protect even humans who scorn us. Just look at Goliath and the rest — after everything, they still hold to the duty they believe they had. With no reward to be gained, so much lost and so much still to lose, still they follow their duty," she said, her voice lowering, softening.

"Humans, Puck, are defined by maliciousness. Humanity has never seen all and not wanted to rule it. Even when they have enough, they want more. Whether it's murdering their own in order to steal or ruining the land to rip riches from it. Their vanity is peerless. They forge codes of law and honor only to break them at the first moment it inconveniences them. Or rewrite their laws to better suit their avarice outright. They set aside old gods for ones closer to themselves in image. And when those gods prove inconvenient, they instead hold themselves up as the supreme measure of all things.

"They love to hate as well. I used to see them as hating gargoyles, but they hate one another for the smallest reasons. They carry on vendettas long after any reason was forgotten. Because they don't need a reason — the hate and violence are their ends, the reasons just a means to preserve their vain desire to be seen as 'civilized'. Humans are the evil race of the world. Just look at the world they have made. They could feed their people, but it easier to let half of them starve.

"The worst, are the best. The ones who seem different, less like their own kind and more like a gargoyle. And it's not because they are liars. It's a crueler truth. Maza and her ilk will forge bonds sincerely, will sacrifice readily. And yet she is still human. And like any human there is a price they will willingly pay even if they do not want to admit it is so. Perhaps to save their own clan at the expense of a group of gargoyles? You think you may be wrong about them. But in the end, their humanity prevails, they could never truly care about something else more than themselves, even when they wanted to."

"Ah, so you hate the detective because she will betray Goliath in your view?" Puck said, lifting off the ground again.

"It is inevitable," Demona muttered. This was a mistake; no good ever came of confiding in the Third Race, all sources agreed on that point.

"Oh, that's a bit sweet, in a twisted, rabid kind of way. You want to get rid of Eliza Maza because you don't want Goliath to be betrayed like you were. More than a tad of narcissistic projection, but still. Anyway, so in summation, you have concluded that humans are essentially the embodiment of irrational hatred, greed, dishonesty, manipulation, and all very bad things in general, while gargoyles are the tragic moral victims. Which would make you a lone survivor freedom fighter of sorts in an utterly dystopic world where there is nothing left to save, only the wicked to be punished? Huh, you know, ever considered investing in some black leather and a cape and cowl? Because -urk!" Puck was cut off as Demona seized him by his chains and dragged him off, "Try and add a little levity to some angst exposition and what do you get? No one appreciates comic relief anymore."

 **X X X**

She looked at the clan. Goliath got the best of it, while Hudson was easily the most recognizable as himself. Also the most clothed, thankfully. He seemed the most keen to accept the truth, which she attributed to natural stubbornness and such. He'd also taken the opportunity to cover the mirror, which might limit it being used against them.

The trio, she thought, would be hard to place. Brooklyn in particular was only recognizable by his hair.

"Okay then," Maggie said, sitting down on a piece of ventilation, "So you five all agree now that you are in fact gargoyles in truth, yes?"

"Yes," Goliath answered on their behalf.

"And you, Elisa, you're still clear on things, right?" Maggie asked.

"Yeah?" Elisa said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Okay, right. Now what?" Maggie asked.

"The plan remains the same, we must stop Demona before she is able to properly wield Puck's magic. We must track her down and defeat her," Goliath declared, walking over to the building ledge. He paused, looking over the side, then lifting his gaze.

"Fire escape is over there," Elisa said, pointing to the ladder.

"Thank you," Goliath sighed.

'We're all going to die, aren't we?' Maggie sighed.

 **X X X**

"Humans!"

"Run for it! Monsters!"

The newly minted gargoyles were fleeing from the Rockefeller Center plaza in a panic.

"The more things change…" Brooklyn remarked.

"At this rate, we'll end up on the news," Maggie remarked.

"I'm more worried about them thinking of calling the police," Elisa said, glancing around.

"Are you sure this is good idea, lad?" Hudson asked Goliath.

"Demona can't kill us directly with Puck, at least not yet. She must have done this to weaken us. We can't hope to find her without the air, and we can't split up. We must lure her to us, and in a place where her wings won't be of use."

Goliath lead them down the steps to the plaza below. As Elisa had said, there was a rack of medieval weaponry there, which Goliath and the trio armed themselves with, while Elisa set the mirror up.

Goliath took a test swing of the sword he had selected, and glanced to Maggie. Maggie looked to the rack; she didn't know how to use any of that. Frowning, her hand went to her belt. The crowbar was still there. Better than nothing, and less likely she'd kill someone with it.

Pulling it free, she smacked it against her palm, hoping it looked more impressive than she felt.

"Uncover the mirror," Goliath ordered Elisa.

Elisa pulled the sheet away, and the mirror was already glowing. Shapes hurled out of it, stark against the light.

Demona hit the ground, guns blazing, lashing out with her tail to knock away Goliath, who fortune had placed behind her. She turned her attention to Goliath after her gaze swept across the boys.

"No matter your form I'd know you, Goliath! Puck, take the rest," she said as Goliath got to his feet.

"As you wish!" Puck cheered, rising into the air. Maggie got back to her feet warily, watching the chained, brightly dressed fey float toward them.

"Humans love a battle hearty, well so does Puck, let's party!" he rhymed, aglow. Green light shot out. Lex's ax was spinning and turning on him, and Maggie didn't glance to the rest; the source of the trouble was in front of her.

She charged at Puck, who looked her way, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, right, not human," he remarked. Face twisting into a glare, he fired a blast from his mouth. Maggie managed to raise her arms, but it knocked her onto her back.

 **X X X**

Demona closed in on Goliath as he discarded the shield her blast had ruined. She smirked; it was appropriate to end him like this. He had fallen so far from the gargoyle she had loved, better to not further sully that memory.

"You are no match for me as a puny human, Goliath," she taunted, preparing to shoot him as he held a sword at ready.

"Brute force has never been my strength, Demona," he said. Someone tackled her from behind. She barely held onto her rifle as she rolled the assailant off.

"But true friends," Goliath said. Demona glared at her attacker, a gargoyle woman, which meant a human in truth.

"Who are-" Demona began, but cut off as she saw the face, complete with that infuriating smirk.

Red flooded her vision at the obscenity of this… thing!

"You!" Demona shrieked. She tried to bring her rifle to bear on the policewoman, but instinct had her spring to the left to avoid Goliath's sword strike.

"What's the matter, Demona? Buyer's remorse?" Maza mocked, closing the distance to grab the rifle and try to jerk it out of Demona's hand. Demona answered by slamming her forehead, complete with her bronze headpiece, into Maza's face.

"I should have known better than to assume you dead until I ripped your heart out with my own claws," Demona roared, shoving the stunned woman away and turning to catch Goliath's sword in her hand, "Well, no time like the present."

 **X X X**

Maggie cut away at the last of the tar-like goop, letting Hudson step free.

Lex had broken free and was helping Brooklyn with Broadway, who was still trapped by the umbrellas like earlier. Bronx was actually pulling all the weight after Puck. At least, she assumed the huge dog was Bronx, and he seemed to have the fey too on the run to actually have time for a spell.

She handed Hudson's sword back, and he looked at the chase going on and the rest of the battlefield.

A blast rang out from the the two on one fight between Elisa and Goliath vs Demona.

"Lass, help em take down Demona. Neither of them know their bodies, and Demona's a dirty fighter besides. I'll take care of Puck," he ordered. Maggie nodded and went on all fours, rushing toward the fight going on.

Demona tore Goliath's sword from his grip and tossed it aside, following up with a backhand. Goliath blocked it, but the force still sent him stumbling with a pained grunt.

Demona must have heard her coming; she turned, rifle leveled, and with only a narrowing of eyes fired.

Heart already racing, Maggie leapt, wings unfolding and flapping once to propel her forward. Elisa slammed into Demona's back, knocking her forward, sending her toward Maggie, who reflexively lashed out with her right hand, claws extended.

Demona rolled her head with the hit and managed to barely keep her feet, stumbling away from her attackers.

Maggie landed awkwardly as Elisa set down, Demona pivoting with eyes red, letting out a horrid shriek. Not bothering to aim, Demona opened fire repeatedly toward them.

Maggie went low, hearing Elisa shriek in pain, but stayed focused on the danger. She barreled into Demona, letting the gargoyle block her with the rifle, that was her target. Rather than strike Demona, she grabbed hold of the weapon and jerked. It almost came free, but not quite, and Demona's grip tightened.

"You, the fake. I have heard about your kind," Demona hissed, red-eyed. Maggie bared her fangs as they tugged at the weapon, Demona firing off two wild shots as they struggled.

"Humans — you destroy us, then try and steal our power for your own. It will be a pleasure to kill you," Demona growled.

"Shut up!" Maggie growled. Her right hand let go while the left held on. She grabbed her crow bar from her belt, and Demona also released a hand from the gun, expecting an attack.

Maggie hit the rifle as hard as she could. The angle was awkward, but she was strong and she was sure there was more adrenaline than blood in her veins now. She rained down blows on the gun with a racket ensuing, then pain exploded in her sight.

 **X X X**

Maggie blinked the white away and stood up, looking around. The fight came back to her. Looking around, she saw the boys were free, facing Puck along with Bronx, who seemed to be holding them at bay. And…

"Maggie, Goliath!" Elisa said, pointing. Maggie noticed a large hole in one of Elisa's wings, and then followed the pointing finger.

Demona was on the upper level, moving away. Which could only mean one thing.

Maggie raced forward, leaping into the air and pushed through the space with her wings more than properly flying. She barely cleared the rail, eyes taking in the sight of Goliath struggling to rise after probably being thrown up here, scraped up and bleeding.

And Demona towering over him, saying something.

Any tactical advice from Hudson or Elisa was forgotten. Only Goliath's lesson thundered in her ears.

Protect.

"You again?" Demona said, turning and catching Maggie's claws in her own as Maggie pounced. Demona twisted, and the tackle turned into Maggie being slammed into the pavement.

Stunned by the blow and abruptness, Demona pulled her hands free and grabbed Maggie's throat in one hand while pinning her. Maggie gasped, clawing at the hand squeezing her throat. Demona smirked.

"A gargoyle's hide is not so delicate, forgery. I suppose what science has done is impressive. But strong as you are, durable as you are, and quick, you are still only an imitation. A lesser version of the original in every way. But at least your pathetic life is at an end," Demona's grin widened, showing off her fangs as she squeezed tighter.

Maggie's head was pounding, her prying at the claws growing weaker. Darkness eating at the edge of her vision.

'I'm going to die,' she realized. Panic was drowned by fatigue at the idea.

'The clan will die!' the thought struck her. The darkness did not recede, but it seemed to halt, and what felt like a fist inside her back clenched tight, having not realized it was loose.

Maggie let go of Demona's hand and grabbed the mad gargoyle's face. And poured her rage up her arms and into her foe.

Demona shrieked as lightning poured into her head and she was blasted away.

Maggie took a ragged breath and spasmed on the pavement, sparks rising from her hands and pain filling the numbness. Turning her head, she saw Goliath getting to his feet and Elisa rushing rushing into her line of sight, holding the rifle.

With a pained sigh of relief, Maggie let herself pass out.

 **X X X**

They appeared on the roof in a flash of light. Goliath looked to the skyline, to confirm they were indeed atop one of the Twin Towers.

Everyone seemed to be present too, as he minded his grip on Puck's chain. The Child of Oberon seemed willing to cooperate but all tales, even to the modern day, warned of their love of trickery. He would have to be cautious until the matter was settled.

Demona was hissing with rage nearby, her arms and wings chained. Maggie held her securely, having warned already that if Demona came close to breaking free, she would electrocute her again. She had taken her blows, as had they all, but she had awoken prepared to see this through to the end.

Maggie had come a log way in a short time. He would need to make that clear to her once this was settled.

"Well, here I am once again. So, big guy not as big as you used to be. What will it be?" Puck asked, turning his attention to Goliath.

Goliath smiled; he needed to project confidence as well as feel it. This was a negotiation, and even bound as he was, Puck was an ancient being with powers far beyond their understanding.

"Puck, you will use your magic to return everyone to the form they had before Demona summoned you. In exchange, you will have your freedom," Goliath offered.

"Hmm," Puck pursed his lips and crossed his legs in the air.

"Hmm," he repeated, tilting his head and turning upside down.

"Uh, is this normal?" Broadway asked.

"For him, it's practically stoic," Demona spat.

"Easy," Maggie commanded Demona.

"Puck?" Goliath pressed. Puck flipped back upright and flew practically into Goliath's face. Eyes widened, Goliath did not slacken his grip on the chain.

"An intriguing offer you have made for Puck. But Puck cannot help but notice you seem to have forgotten an outstanding matter. Or rather, overlooked someone standing. Right over there, perchance?" Puck said, his voice going flat with a bit of an irritated expression as he pointed to Demona with his foot.

"Demona?"

"Oh, are you carrying a torch of your own? No, over 'there', the one with significantly fewer mental health issues standing behind my cranky summoner."

"Maggie?"

"Me?"

"Yes! They can be taught!" Puck cheered.

"Oh God, you can do that?" Elisa said, hand going to her mouth. Puck grinned widely, showing off his teeth, looking at Elisa.

"Ah, count on the detective to be the first one to the realization. And yes, of course I can. I flipped the species of near everyone on Manhattan in the last few hours. You think trimming back your friend's fur is a high bar for me? Though I must say, you may not be very good friends for that to slip your minds. Because I'm certain it hasn't slipped hers, watching this little game of musical chairs as she has," Puck continued.

The way Maggie didn't meet his eyes confirmed the truth of the last part of Puck's words.

"Hudson, Broadway," Goliath said. They understood the unspoken order and grabbed Puck's chain, letting Goliath release it. As Goliath walked over to Maggie he glanced at the Trickster; he did not trust that smile.

"Elisa, can you hold Demona? We need to discuss this," Goliath asked the only current gargoyle present.

"Sure, but if she tries anything, I will put her out," Elisa said. She stepped up next to Maggie and the two exchanged glances as Demona went still. The transition from one to another was not lacking smoothness, but Demona was skilled, and knocked Maggie aside with her shoulder before Elisa could get a grip.

WHACK.

Demona fell to the ground from Elisa's right hook connecting with her jaw. It did not knock her out, but Elisa was able to haul Demona back to her feet and pull her into a hold before the mad gargoyle could do more than groan, trying to blink away the daze.

"Dang, she is hard!" Elisa griped, "I didn't think gargoyles got hurt from punching people like everyone else."

"Well, what else would be tough to a gargoyle if not another gargoyle?" Goliath smirked. The smile vanished, because Elisa was of course not really a gargoyle. Between the two women there, the one who acted like a gargoyle was somehow the one who wasn't.

No, no time to be distracted. This magic needed to be done with, the sooner the better.

"Maggie, we need to talk," Goliath said. Walking off with her, he noted she was a bit taller than him now. And he was not a short human. She had remained a constant in this night of chaos. He wondered what it had been, and for the moment still was, like.

"He can change me back," Maggie preempted as they moved away from the others.

"So he says," Goliath answered. Maggie stopped and looked at him. Her ears drooped and her shoulders sagged.

"You think I shouldn't ask." It wasn't a question.

Goliath had feared eagerness, recklessness. That she would leap toward the hope Puck had casually dangled. This sad resignation, it stunned him.

"Maggie…" he searched for words as she turned to look out at the city.

"Goliath, did I tell you that you make a very handsome human? And dressed like that, you just need to strike a dramatic pose and you'd be ready for a fantasy novel cover. Or we could get you in an unbuttoned frilly shirt and it'd be a romance novel cover," Maggie chuckled, choking a bit on the last sound.

"…It is your choice," Goliath finally said. She turned back to look at him, her eyes catching the light so brightly here. Goliath nodded to her question unspoken.

"I understand now more than I could ever have before what it means to be forced into being something else. Puck's magic is far different from what you were subjected to, Maggie. But I think I understand. I do not trust Puck with any room for trickery. But I have a poor history with magic, it may cloud my judgement. It may be dangerous to mix magic and science; Coldstone was raised from the dead to tragic life with such a union. But science may never be able to cure you, or those who hold that power may be unwilling. This could be your only chance. If you are willing to take the risk, I will support your choice," he said.

Maggie took it in, and her face worked a bit, finally biting her lip. He saw with some concern she drew some blood before stopping to lick it away.

She walked past him and brushed close, a bit too close; Goliath had to step quickly to avoid her wings.

She went to the mirror and stood before it, looking at herself, he realized.

Of course, he could not fault it. Had Brooklyn and the others not just this night been musing about how limiting their isolation was? Even with each other, they were a small island in a sea of humanity they could see but never be part of. And even in the best reckoning, the clan would dwindle and diminish to nothing in time. She could escape, reclaim the birthright of being part of this world in a way they could no longer be.

No doubt she saw his caution as selfishly trying to keep her in the tower, away from the race of her birth.

 **X X X**

Maggie looked in the mirror. It was truly beautiful, and for its age she supposed a true wonder in its time for how smooth and clear the reflection was.

She saw the winged catwoman, her dress torn a bit from the battle. She was a bit sore from her lightning, and her joints still were aching a bit from this stressful night and two battles in succession. Her bed was calling, yet she could not go to it. Because she could swear she didn't just see the reflection she had been forced to get used to, in the clocktower and in darkened windows. She saw a woman, a human woman, as clearly as if it was fading into sight. Maggie Reed, as she was before all this. Exactly like that.

Ragged, tired-looking, a tad sickly, and so tired, with quietly desperate eyes. Her dreams ashes in her hands and blown away, she had been so desperate to escape the lonely despair of her own insignificance. So terrified she would die unmourned and unseen in the gutter or crawl back to her hometown and survive but die on the inside from knowing she was every bit the nothing she had feared she really was.

This woman looking back at her had surely known better deep down than to trust something too good to be true. How many other homeless had heard the Doctor's offer, and run? But she hadn't even accepted she was a bum, had she? As if denying the label and whatever comfort her fellow derelicts may have been able to offer somehow kept her a tad bit… purer? Superior? Whatever.

She was looking at a victim, who had let herself be a victim. And would just stumble from one day to the next, never bothering to risk trying to pull herself out of the rut.

Her hand gripped the frame of the mirror. A hand covered in leonine fur with claws sticking out in place of nails, and pads digging into the metal.

She wondered if the clear human reflection was exhaustion or magic, and closed her eyes.

Sevarius had never taken her mind. Yes, there had been fits and hallucinations, but beneath the haze, the her that was her remained. Puck was less painful, it seemed. But Elisa had forgotten herself. And more chillingly, so had the clan. Even if only for a few moments, being gargoyles and all that meant to them had been torn away, body and mind. And that had been to something entirely new.

Would returning to humanity mean more for her? Would she lose all that had happened? Would it be nothing more than dreams and nightmares she awakened from with the whole notion dismissible? She could even imagine a restored Elisa guiding her down to the street, assuring her of the new reality. The nightmares of Gen-U-Tech and her mutated body easing away. With gentleness, released back to the streets.

Free. Another stray. Back to what she had been, as if she had never met the clan.

No. She wanted to be human. But not that human. Not the one she had been, and that was what Puck was offering. The nightmares were horrible, but releasing her grip on the mirror she accepted they were HER nightmares. She had made those mistakes, and she had not just survived, she had been saved.

Saved and not been abandoned. Opening her eyes, she saw herself as she was now in the mirror, and Goliath and Hudson she could glimpse, too. The clan had not just saved her, they helped her become someone who could save herself, and others.

It had been terrifying tonight, she had to be the one to save Goliath, the greatest hero she could ever hope to meet. She wasn't impressed with herself, it was too hard to believe it. And she wouldn't if she left this strange world behind. If she slipped back up to the sane skin of the world.

This was no prize for running the race to the end, she admitted. It was the Doctor's smile again, his promise of a simple, easy solution requiring no sacrifice, a comfortable way out. A promise for the foolish and weak to accept so they could remain both those things. She was not as weak and foolish as she had once been. And she wouldn't be that woman again.

Turning to face Puck, she was surprised there was no need to fight tears.

"Keep your magic, Puck. I will find my own way forward," she told the figure of countless plays as he smiled in his chains.

Puck shrugged in his chains.

"Well, can't say I didn't try. So, sticking to your original plan, then?" he asked Goliath. Goliath nodded, as Maggie stepped away from the mirror to stand near him.

"First the humans I'll attend," Puck said, his voice echoing and pervasive as power surged around him, lifting his long milky hair. Rays shot out of his eyes and mouth into the mirror, and shot out the back like a green thunderbolt striking a radio tower or something. The plethora of light raining down on the city filled her vision, making her wince.

Maggie blinked her eyes and, clearing spots, watched Elisa glow and stumble back from Demona, and in a flash Elisa stood human once more. And where had her red jacket come from? Where had it gone in the first place?!

"Then the gargoyles will I mend," Puck continued.

Goliath glowed next to her in green energy, rising a bit into the air. Then in a flash it was done, and Goliath staggered on his feet, towering over her again. Maggie gently grabbed his left arm, steadying him as he found his feet.

"If his efforts you commend, free Puck, let him homeward wend," Puck said to Hudson and Broadway, also back to themselves. They looked to Goliath, who nodded.

They snapped the iron with ease, and Puck was flying across the rooftop quick as a bird.

"Well now, it's time to tie the final knots and indulge in a very long nap," he declared. Grabbing the unattended Demona, he dragged her through the mirror by her own chains and with a flash, the mirror was gone. And the two foes of the night with it.

Maggie let her shoulders droop and rubbed her eyes. She agreed with Puck — she needed to sleep for maybe a few days.

"Maggie," Brooklyn stepped up. Maggie looked at him, considering his face. Really, if not for the hair and voice, he would be unrecognizable between the two forms. While Hudson and Goliath had basically been just human versions of themselves.

'Magic is weird,' Maggie decided. Then realized Brooklyn was talking.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" she asked. Brooklyn looked a bit stunned. It couldn't have been important, she had enough big things already tonight!

"I just wanted to say, I think you made the right choice. I mean, that Puck magic, having gotten a taste… well, I wouldn't recommend it. Really, magic in general, I guess it can be…" he trailed off. Broadway put an arm over his brother's shoulder as Brooklyn trailed off.

"He's trying to thank you for stepping up tonight. You've come a long way from the alley, Maggie," the stout gargoyle declared.

"I could have said that," Brooklyn grumbled.

"Then why didn't you?" Broadway retorted, without any bite. He let Brooklyn shrug him off and followed after. Lex followed by, thankfully he just gave her a smile and thumbs up.

"More night is behind us than in front. Best we get back to the tower," Hudson declared. Maggie smiled at the words, both him being himself and for getting things back in order as if it were just another night. And because flight could distract her.

She needed a distraction, because she was already feeling like she may have made a huge mistake passing on Puck's offer.

Goliath led, holding Elisa, and the wind beneath her wings and the tired but stirring pull of her wing muscles drove back the fatigue for now. The night sky above and the shining city below, held and propelled between the two by her own strength, Maggie let fear and worry fall away and drink in the moment.

 **X X X**

As it turned out, she did not want to go to bed as soon as they got back to the tower. The sun would rise soon, and along with the thrill of the flight she wanted to stay up to see the clan to the dawn. To really see this night done.

That being said, she did want this night over. No one tried to make small talk, and she leaned her back against the railing, taking some weight off her feet and feeling the comfortable shape of the stonework against her back.

She glanced to the side as Goliath took his usual place little more than a few feet from her spot.

'Hmm, as fascinating as it was to see him as a human, this really is what suits him,' she decided.

Maggie reached to her belt where the crowbar dangled, not really secure enough. Brooklyn had retrieved it from the battlefield, and forgotten it, apparently. He had only returned it in the tower. She wasn't sure what to make of it; this tool seemed to be sticking with her.

Thoughts better kept for after she had slept, Maggie reminded herself.

She heard Hudson sigh, as he took his spot.

"I wish I could have seen the sun just once," the elder admitted. Maggie was shocked how old he sounded, and even looked, for a moment there.

"Elisa," Goliath said. Maggie looked back to Goliath, grateful for the distraction from Hudson. Goliath was facing the wrong way, looking uncertain as he looked down on Elisa, who seemed quite petit next to him there.

"I know what you're going to say. You're just as glad things are back to normal as me," the detective said with a smile that seemed a bit off.

"That's not what I was-" Goliath said, before turning into stone with that familiar sound. Elisa had placed two fingers on his chin just before he changed, as if hushing him. She pulled her hand back as Maggie watched, taking in Goliath frozen in such a strange position, face so uncertain and his arms spread almost pleading as he faced inward.

"I know, but that's how it is," Elisa Maza remarked. Turning her back, the human walked back into the tower without another word. Maggie, after a moment or two's waiting, pushed herself from her spot and walked to stand in front of Goliath, really taking in his pose.

Frowning, Maggie looked from him to the doorway Elisa had vanished through. It was probably stress and the long night making her tired, but she found herself feeling… irked, she decided. Still, the night was done. Puck and his antics were gone and would never be repeated. Elisa was right — whatever Goliath might have been thinking, things were the way they were.

 **X X X**

Puck was gone. Demona let herself slump down in her favorite chair.

This entire operation had been a huge waste of her time. All she had to show for it was the money lost on paying those thieves and the lost gun. Her fortune hardly took a hit, but still, all this effort and it ended in the red.

Cracking an eye open, she glanced around, wondering if Puck was really gone, or would pop up again to surprise her. It was an agonizing thought, that now freed, Puck effectively haunt her if he chose.

The mirror… her eyes opened wide as she realized Titania's mirror still stood in her study. A smile graced her face as she pulled herself from the chair and crossed the dark room. Looking at the mirror and her reflection, she nodded to herself.

It was note a waste, she decided. After all, she still had a powerful artifact. Puck had left it, and Goliath had not been able to take it. True, she was not sure what else to do with it other than the spell to bind Puck she had discovered months ago. But there would surely be other uses. She had ample time to find them.

Assured of having gained something, Demona withdrew into her mansion, toward the daylight vault to sleep in security from humanity teeming beyond these walls.

 **X X X**

It had never occurred to her that Puck would grant her wish.

The sensation of sunrise reached her in the vault as ever, but rather than the cold stiffness, fire erupted in her body. It had actually been terrifying, the pain less so than the sheer puzzlement of it.

When the pain passed and she had laid on the ground numb, she desperately tried to sort out what had just happened.

Then she remembered Puck's parting words. He had insisted, despite her desire for him to just leave her be, to leave a parting gift for "a night's merriment"; of all things, he claimed he was never a poor guest. And at her continued insistence, he had claimed he would grant her earlier wish — to be flesh by day.

That had been what had set everything in motion, hadn't it? All his polymorphing antics had come from him dancing around her simple desire to be rid of her race's achilles heel.

Well, she was flesh, having seemingly resisted the stone of day. Was it day, though? She didn't have a clock in here, and besides her sight, had yet to recover from the fit anyway.

She had to see.

The vault was combination from the outside, but inside a simple lever was sufficient. The fit had drained a good bit; the lever and door did not give way as easily as they should have.

Rushing through the halls, she made her way to the study.

And was greeted by glory.

The sun… the pictures and televisions did nothing to capture it. Even as she strained to look at it directly despite centuries of warnings, she walked to the window, flinging it open.

It was warm, and the outside, the yard, the city — all of it was transformed by the light washing over it.

Oh, she could see why humans had once worshipped the celestial body. Feeling her skin drink in its warmth, the very wind seeming to grow softer in its bite…

He actually did it," she whispered. To think Puck would actually grant her a great gift only when she had lost power over him. Still, closing the window and drawing the curtains with reluctance, Demona decided his motives her best not contemplated.

This… this changed so much. What it would mean to her cause would take time to fully appreciate, she thought, walking toward her desk out of habit. Then she caught sight of an intruder in the corner of her eye.

A human!

Turning on the spot, she raised her hands for battle, only to stop as she saw the human doing the same.

A woman, small, with crimson hair, pale skin, a Scot if she to take a guess. And her clothing…

Demona raised a hand to her cheek. The human in Titania's mirror did the same. Demona then looked, really looked, at her hands, and with trembling fingers felt her ears.

"NOOOO!" Demona screamed, rushing toward the horrid sight.

Glass shattered, and as Demona raged, the sound seemed to echo in her head as it morphed into Puck's laughter.

 _The Next Night:_

Derek followed the tiny flashlight with his right eye, then his left. Cranley wrote something down, then went back to looking over the readouts and scans displayed on the screens she had arrayed on the wall.

Derek was not at ease in the medical setting, but it was better than the holding cell he had woken up in. They all knew the straps holding him down to the cold steel table would not hold him if he wanted to get up. They were there for the Doc's benefit, and to slow him down enough for the guard to tranq him.

Not that he could blame them.

He watched Cranley work, every bit as human as she had been when he met her. Same for the assistants that came in and out and the armed blonde commando-looking woman standing by the door watching him like a hawk.

He had hallucinated everyone around him had become a gargoyle, with them denying they had ever been human in the first place. Cranley claimed she had insisted on being human, so not just his eyes.

His brain was rotting inside his head, he should have known. It only made sense after all, that bastard had messed up the rest of his body, why should his grey matter be spared? The only question was whether he'd be put down like a rabid animal or kept alive in the hope that study might save someone else, he suspected.

He'd ask Mr. Xanatos for permission to write some letters. His family and a few others deserved more than just silence from him going to the grave.

Cranley frowned and glanced his way before heading over. This was it, Derek decided.

"Well, Mr. Maza, you seem to be in perfect health."

"…"

"Mr. Maza?"

"Did I hear you right?" he asked. She smacked him on the head, but it was noticeably too light to hurt.

"I trust you felt that? So enough dramatics. Based on the chemical work and such, I won't waste the precise data on you, I am inclined to believe your incident was stress induced. Likely due to the responsibility of Stage 2 acting as a catalyst. Hardly typical, but your situation is medically unprecedented. So while I would like you to say under observation for the next 24 hours, I would say you seem to be in the clear from a medical standpoint," she informed him.

Without another word, she exited the lab and an assistant undid the straps on Derek.

 **X X X**

Cranley was given a wide berth by her subordinates as she made her way down the hallway, a frown firm on her face.

She had not lied, but she was not satisfied with her answers. Yet again, she was forced to concede to herself a lack of proper explanation. The chimera continued to be such an enigma, even beyond its creation.

The only thing was to continue to review Sevarius' notes, pry at the locks to the chests yet unopened. The latest breakthrough on an encrypted file had proven… vexing. Nothing more than Sevarius chastising a sneak for trying to pick his brain without permission and given them a consolation prize of the so-called doctor reading aloud the entirety of Frankenstein.

Cranley had not been amused by the assistant saying it was quite an entertaining listen. She had reassigned the joker to a more fitting duty involving the plumbing. Speaking of plumbing, she ducked into the bathroom and pulled out her pills. The night was far from done.

Swallowing her pills, she then checked the mirror. She was looking properly in sorts. But she recalled what Maza had described. Her as a gargoyle, with white skin and wings with paler blonde hair, four horns crowning her head.

It was a ridiculous notion. But the conjured image, did bring a brief smile to her face.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _Well this took longer than it should have. Its been mostly done for nearly a month but I got hung up on a few scenes.  
_

 _This was a vital chapter i think, and based on one of my favorite episodes. After this I think we can see the butterflies start to build up more; which hopefully will make for a better story for you._

 _I considered referencing Thailog but it seemed like between the Clan, Demona, and Stage 2 starting we had plenty._

 _Now true to the original being a shippy episode for Goliath and Elisa we saw that carry over here. So I am sure many of you are wondering what I have planned._

 _Well to disappoint many I expect, the truth is at this point i have abandoned shipping planning. After hearing various views on the matter I decided trying to move the story in one direction or the other seems folly at this point. Yes Maggie has a crush, but I am not sure what will come of it for instance. For pairing moments, I will write what fees natural at the time and if something 'clicks' down the line; I probably will go with that._

 _So the answer to shipping /pairing questions for now at least is:_ **?.**

 **Well long, days and pleasant nights to you all.**

 **-EK**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** : I do not own Disney's Gargoyles.

 _Betaed by_ : Zim'smostloyalservant

* * *

Chapter 7

 **Festival**

"So, Mr. Riesen, you're sure about this?" Derek asked. He was sitting on a stool beside the hospital bed holding the middle-aged Jewish man. At least, he was listed as middle-aged — he looked older than that. He was in bad shape, but still managed a smile, that showed a lot of life.

"Become a cat person? Can't say it's on my bucket list, young man. But the teachings say we can even ignore the restrictions if it is necessary to survive. And if this is a chance to live, I think my rabbi would tell me to take it. And if I die? Well, I can go knowing I did everything I could to live, right?" the man chuckled. Or rather, tried. Derek patted the back of the man's hand and took his leave.

Getting out into the hallway, he pulled out the notepad from his shorts pocket and checked it. That was the last for today. Yossel had already agreed before, but they made a point of giving people time to think it over, even if they accepted the initial offer. Besides, he was glad they weren't rushing in.

This wasn't Gen-U-Tech; shady as it had to be, this was about helping people, not some mad scientist's ego.

"Done for the day? It gets rather old, doesn't it? 'Oh me? I'm dying'. Going to get a drink to unwind? The Doc won't let me and this one isn't helping," Anna said as she was wheeled down the hallway.

The military veteran looked even worse than when Derek last saw her. Her friend wasn't even pretending to find her bad humor funny. Derek knew he should get angry, but this woman was in the same boat as those she was mocking.

"Are you supposed to be out of bed?" Derek asked.

"Maybe? But I need answers more than a bed. When is the Doc going to treat me?"

"I don't know. I understand there's other projects or something. It all ties back to this, I think," Derek said.

"You think? It's evolve now or die soon for me, Maza. I have a deal, remind her," Anna demanded, trying to raise her voice. 'Trying' being the operative word, and he was pretty sure she was trying to make a fist with that raised hand. Her bravado seemed to crack as she stared at the possibly disobedient hand.

Her minder and seeming friend, Rachel he had learned the female trooper was called, eased the hand back to the armrest, gave Derek a nod, and turned Anna's chair around, wheeling the woman away. He expected her to make some final remark. When it didn't come, even to his ears, Derek felt a chill. He did not like that woman, but still.

Looking up and down the corridors, he counted off the rooms, putting names and faces in his head to numbers. From singles like Yossel. To doubles, sometimes friendly, other times pensive. And of course the kids. Like the twins whose father's accent was so thick that at times Derek couldn't understand him, but his growing terror was crystal clear.

In spite of everything, Derek found he was hoping Cranley would be ready soon.

 **X X X**

"And so in the end, the Mystery of the Silver Falcon was nothing but a final cruel joke of Mace Malone's. I think even Elisa couldn't help but feel sorry for the old gangster, who despite everything was also a victim of the clever cruelty of a long dead man," Broadway said as they stretched on the balcony.

"Nice narration, you planning to submit the script?" Maggie teased.

"Hey now, if you don't believe me, just ask Elisa," Broadway defended.

"I believe you fine, Broadway, but it just seems a bit odd you are so into this gangster stuff when you've dealt with magic, time travel, and killer robots," Maggie remarked.

"Well, that stuff's normal for us. Which is pretty bad, now that I think about it. Besides, this time I thought my way through it like a real sleuth. I had to be there to catch Elisa when she needed me," he pressed.

"Relax, Broadway, I'm impressed. I know I couldn't pull off anything like that," Maggie said as they took their spot on the railing to take flight and took to the air.

"You say that now, but that rookie patch is wearing mighty thin, Maggie. Soon enough you'll be wowing us with stories of what happened with your night's solo patrol," Broadway said. Maggie didn't answer that, and turned her attention to listening. Her ears were sharper than a gargoyle's; more than once she had picked up something they missed.

The city could be overwhelming. The tower she found calming, in part from the gear-works background noise doing so much to dull the city beyond. But she could sort through the noise, she found, listening for the breaks in the patterns, the stuff which while not standing out for volume didn't belong.

The drawback to focusing so much on listening, she had found, was it made her prone to failing to spot things with her eyes. So when Broadway spoke up, breaking her concentration, she guessed it was trouble.

"Maggie, 3 o'clock," he snapped. Maggie snapped from her concentration and looked as he directed. And a rock dropped into her stomach. Winged figures were drawing closer, not gargoyles.

"What should we do?" Maggie asked as the mutates flew toward them. Yes, there was no doubt they were trying to close the distance.

"…Stay in the air for now. But let's see if they want to talk. Maybe Derek pulled his head out finally?" Broadway said grimly.

"Alright," she said. She saw now it was Derek Maza, the panther man; he had changed too, just like Goliath had said. The grey one was with him, Frank, Brooklyn had said his name was. A jerk.

Why couldn't it have been the tiger man? Lexington said that one seemed harmless on his own, Maggie lamented.

"Fancy bumping into you," Derek said as they pulled up next to them, the two mutates putting Maggie between themselves and Broadway. Broadway answered by expertly riding the wind to come up between Maggie and the others, giving a challenging grin to Derek. Maggie let out a breath at the move.

"Free sky, Derek. What's up? Following in our footsteps, looking to fight a good fight?" Broadway asked.

"It's practice. We have orders to not draw attention. Besides, vigilantism is a crime," Derek answered.

Maggie glared at the remark, before remembering she should be scared of the hulking panther.

"You'd know, being a cop I guess. Oh, that's right, you quit to be Xanatos' errand boy. Guess the green mattered more than protecting your city, eh Derek?" Broadway said. She couldn't see his expression, but his tone was the kind of fake jollity he used to warn someone he was getting irritated.

"Shots fired!" Frank cackled. Maggie frowned at him not backing Derek up. He really was just a jerk, wasn't he? Derek, though, seemed to ignore his comrade in favor of Broadway.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand human motives. After all, you prefer to squat around in some attic rather than take a chance trusting someone who could help you. And then go the extra mile to declare war on him."

"If you mean trusting some rich guy you barely knew over your sister, I think I'd rather remain ignorant on that one, buddy," Broadway remarked.

"Big D has sister issues," Frank supplied. This time, Maggie saw Derek shoot a look at him. But then Derek shot a glare at Broadway as if he had said it. Maggie spoke before she could think.

"Elisa always end up on top when you wrestled?" Maggie asked with a mocking tone.

"Reed," Derek growled. A smile Maggie hadn't realized she was wearing slipped away. For a moment, she thought he was going to fly over to her.

But then Broadway was blocking him from her vision.

"…We're not here to make trouble. Let's go, Frank, plenty of sky," Derek said. Then they were peeling off, flapping away into the night.

Maggie let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding as they receded.

"Maggie, look at you! I was wondering if I'd need to stop you from taking a swing at Elisa's little brother," Broadway laughed pleasantly.

"Why'd you provoke him!?" Maggie demanded, harsher than she wanted. But Broadway just shrugged as they hit an updraft.

"That guy rubs me the wrong way. Not only did he quit being a protector because he wanted more money and stuff, but he sided with Xanatos over his own family. Maybe a throw down might knock some sense into him."

"Throw down? Have you been watching wrestling or something?" Maggie asked.

"Uh, well, I- Eyes down! Carjacking," Broadway said. Yeah, there it was, though it looked like the jackers, two young men in jackets, were more interested in the middle-aged tubby bald man they had pulled out of the car.

One of them was brandishing a crowbar; Maggie considered pulling hers out as they swooped down.

 **X X X**

"First she talked back to Derek, then she went in on my wing without any hesitation. I'm telling you, guys, our Maggie's come a long way," Broadway boasted as he hung back while Lex was working on some cloth stuff with Brooklyn watching.

"Yeah, great," Brooklyn answered.

"You know Elisa won't be happy if she hears you've been egging her brother on. Goliath wants us to get him away from Xanatos, not be angry at us," Lexington pointed out.

"I know, but how are we supposed to get through where Elisa couldn't? Besides, with Maggie there, I wasn't about to let him take the lead on anything. Had to cut in to keep him from getting too close, a perfect bit of gliding if I say so myself," Broadway preened a bit.

"Yeah, so where is Maggie anyway? You remember how sharp her hearing is," Brooklyn pointed out. He had looked around and he couldn't see Maggie in the usual reading spots in his line of sight, or in the kitchen area.

"Oh, after we came in and reported to Hudson she opted to do a bit more flying. Not like she can do any of it during the day."

"I'm going to check on her," Brooklyn said abruptly, brushing a bit closer to Broadway than was polite. His brothers watched him go, and Lexington gave him an irritated look.

"What?" Broadway defended, "Maggie can take care of herself and she knows not to go far."

"One, I'd still say she's at risk with the other chimera flying around. Two, it's not her I'm worried about," Lexington said, giving Broadway a suffering look.

"Oh, yeah, the crush," Broadway said.

"And you being there as knight in shining armor for her doesn't help," Lexington pointed out.

"Tch, he's being a hatchling on this, Lex. I'm not making a move, she seems more interested in Goliath and Brooklyn is interested. But if she falls for me anyway… Well, that's hardly my fault for being so smooth, is it?" Broadway laughed.

"The Goliath thing's probably just a crush, Broadway. I mean, it's Goliath, and he saved her," Lex remarked.

"Well it's not like Goliath has any more option than the rest of us, Lex. Though I guess Demona, that could put anyone out."

"Broadway, I'm saying that this thing she has for Goliath is probably just going to go away on its own. And you need to really think what happens if this becomes something between you and Brooklyn," Lex said sternly, putting a leather cap down hard enough to made it pound on the table.

"…Geeze, Lex. This is no big deal. It's Brooklyn we're talking about here," Broadway muttered, stalking off. Lex watched him head out the clock face door, and walked over to Hudson.

"Hmm, thought I'd seen the last of this kind of drama. Rather glad I was wrong," Hudson remarked dryly, flipping through the channels as he sat back in his chair. Lexington knelt to pet Bronx, who leaned into the attention.

"Do you think I'm overreacting?" Lex asked.

"It's a matter of the heart, lad. It doesn't add up like your technology does. If anything, it's more like magic — the more you try and take it apart to understand it, the less you'll understand it at all. As for trouble? May be nothing, may be something. What about you? No interest? I seem to recall you thought it pretty 'cool' to see female gargoyles during Puck's antics."

"Yeah, but this is different. Maybe I'm just not into cats or something," Lex shrugged and decided to head outside himself.

"Maybe it is that. I wonder," Hudson mused thoughtfully, stroking his beard. Turning the TV off, he shrugged. The old gargoyle decided some things changed little even with a thousand years, and he had been no expert back then, either.

 **X X X**

Dr. Cranley wished she could have a world without having to accommodate office politics. Because as she prepared for the lab, securing her hair under a cap and protective lenses over her eyes, she was already feeling exhausted, thinking of the time ahead.

Project Thailog was entering its final pre-decanting stage. As the Chimera process was better documented, she felt that P.T. should take her priority. Yes, they could start now on Phase Two, but why not wait until the dust had settled on Project Thailog?

Even if some of the subjects expired, more could be acquired. Maza had actually proven useful in talking them around and acclimating them to the idea. His idea to introduce Claw, she had been wary of. He was a flawed specimen, after all. But Xanatos had agreed that the more timid Chimera might put them at ease to any thoughts of Chimera being monsters.

Frank, of course, was banned from that wing of the facility after he had found the impertinent lady soldier unattended and decided to have a little fun. Nothing invasive; she got the feeling it was more her inability to ward him off than any of his pathetic high schooler antics that had set off the former solder. Granted, Cranley thought, with her medical mask in place, that one could use being taken down a peg.

Speak of the devil — as she stepped into the bustling lab, the first bed sectioned off by plexiglas to her right was marked A. Raskin.

The assistants reported to her all systems were green. The timing was less than optimal, but she smiled as she walked to the electric lock cabinet. Looking up, she saw Owen Burnett watching them all, stoic as ever. He lifted a controller at her nod and pressed a button, the locking mechanism lighting up a yellow light. Cranley slid her card and it turned green. It opened to reveal rows of the IDS-47, each labeled and the injectors ready for use.

Selecting "A. Raskin", Cranley walked to the appropriate pen, and closed the door behind her, leaving her cut off from much of the noise, with a single aide waiting and Raskin breathing on the hospital bed.

"Strip," Cranley said, loading the injector. The aide nodded, removing the blankets and then the gown, fully displaying for the recording the pathetic form of this human specimen.

It was time to see if they could make something better from this.

"Lion, you promised I'd be a lion," the woman managed to speak. Cranley gave her an annoyed look and injected her in the side of a withered rear. The woman flinched, and Cranley turned to go.

"You will get what you will get," she remarked, before closing the door and accepting the next sample as she handed off the used-up vial to the waiting aide.

She glanced up to look past Burnett to Derek, Frank, and Klaus.

The audience was irrelevant, she reminded herself, turning back to the work. This would prove she had matched Sevarius' creation, and from there remove pressure for the new formula Xanatos was demanding. The man seemed to think his scientists existed to grant him miracles from the lab. She supposed she could blame Sevarius for that, but it erred too close to sounding like respect for the late Doctor.

Injecting one of the children, she noted their fearful look and perhaps felt a twinge of regret for not letting the father even view from the theater. But it was quickly quashed. It could only invite trouble. The child and the others would live or die regardless of a parent being present. She had actual variables to concern herself with.

 **X X X**

"Another werewolf sighting," Maggie said, as everyone started on the daily meal. Gargoyles tended to eat when hungry or when food became available, she had learned; structured meals weren't foreign, but they were more pragmatic when they happened.

Hudson and Goliath always paused before eating, closing their eyes; not quite a prayer, she had been told, but more a thanks to the world that there was food enough for all. The boys didn't observe it really, though Maggie had made it very clear for this meal she prepared daily they would not eat until everyone was ready.

Maggie, for her part, shared the moment of silence with an internal reciting of the prayer her family had used at their dinner table. She didn't consider herself very religious, but she had seen enough hardship to know to be grateful for a good meal and people to share it with. And as for the supernatural… well, she was not going to assume anything at this point.

Broadway had the worst table manners of the group, but not as bad as one would think from looking at gargoyles. Goliath was actually the tidiest eater; well, him or Lexington. She'd rate Hudson next, as he ate the slowest, possibly because as the tower guard he knew he could snack freer than the others over the night. Brooklyn… well, neither praise nor critique there, she supposed.

"Well, I haven't seen anyone howling at the moon, besides some of the weirder addicts," Broadway remarked.

"You might be worried over nothing, Maggie," Lexington pointed out, "It might sound weird coming from us, but not every urban legend is true. Could just be people seeing things and the rumor taking a life of its own."

"Or some jerk in a costume running around. It's New York, things can get weird," Brooklyn said, drinking the last of his stew.

"Besides, it's almost Halloween, people are going to be getting weirder until it gets really good," Broadway spoke up again, taking a drink.

"It's true, it could be nothing," Goliath spoke up, cutting off a piece of beef on his plate, "But it could be something we will have to deal with, even if it is a man in a costume."

"Or another victim of Xanatos' experiments," Maggie muttered. They all exchanged a look at that. They had suspected her interest in the stories might be that. And they couldn't deny it was possible, with Dr. Cranley carrying on Sevarius' horrid experiments.

"It could also be another survivor from the old times. Best be prepared," Hudson remarked, pointing to the boys with the knife he used for the table.

 **X X X**

As ideas went, it was utterly insane. Maggie knew she should tell them that, be responsible, even the adult, to their ridiculous enthusiasm. She hadn't because that was Goliath's role, or Hudson's. So she had just basically nodded along, neither supporting or denouncing the notion.

But neither man had shot down the idea. Which meant they approved.

That had been a shocking realization for Maggie. Yes, she realized something like this could still shock her, in a life as a mutant living with gargoyles, that also included a hairy, more charismatic Lex Luthor, cyborgs, and Fey sorcerers. In fact, looking at it that way, maybe she was too quick to call it crazy?

But here she was, up early for herself, looking over the contents of the box. The mask, it was made to be a bit malleable to fit the face. She wondered if it was up to the challenge of her face?

Pulling the snap thingie on the tether, she loosened it up enough to slide it over her head. It took some doing, but to her surprise the mask fit over her eyes and upper face, her snout hardly chafing at all. The cape was a cinch after that.

The mirror showed her something ridiculous.

"Well, if it isn't Batcat," Elisa spoke behind her. Maggie jumped up in surprise at how close the voice was, and practically went down on all fours.

"Sorry, getting into striking poses, huh?" Elisa asked, smiling as Maggie looked over at her. Maggie was very grateful for any blushes being hidden, only to feel her ears pressing down in embarrassment.

"You honestly think this will work?" Maggie asked, taking the mask off. Elisa chuckled, stepping up to her.

"Trust me Maggie, people are not as observant as you think. How many times do you think muggers and their like get off because people can't remember their face? They are more likely to finger someone who 'looks' like a criminal or resembles a criminal from a TV show they just watched."

Elisa plucked the mask from Maggie's hand and held it up.

"So you show up at the Halloween street fest with this stuff, all anyone will see is the best costume of the night," Elisa said, putting the mask back on Maggie. Elisa smoothed some ruffled fur on Maggie's cheek as she adjusted the mask. The contact was nice, so casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Don't let being nervous ruin the night for you, Maggie. You deserve to be able to walk around without worrying about being seen. And besides, someone is going to have to keep the boys in line," Elsa added.

Maggie checked, making sure the plates were all set and stocked, then went down on all fours to catch up to Elisa as she stepped out on top the balcony. The sun was almost set.

 **X X X**

The frantic pace of the facility had lowered into well-ordered urgency, Cranley noted with satisfaction. They had gotten over the hump, as it were, she noted as another cloth-draped corpse was pushed out of the doors.

In many ways, matters were proceeding as expected. The direct die-offs and rejections were not exact matches to her estimates, but close enough to be acceptable.

Of course, the rejections counted as deaths in this case. Many of the subjects had expired due to their already poor condition, and those who pulled through this… well, they had been terminal already. This just confirmed and possibly moved up their genetic death sentence.

But among those that that had taken to the treatment… she smiled wide under her mask.

Cranley all but sped into the booth holding one of the surviving children. The aide gave her a summary, but she was checking herself.

The advancement of the beastliness was beautiful in person. Not entirely even, with some patches of fur far longer and the bones shifting and growing. The boy stared back at her, eyes hazed with pain, unconscious but still open wide. One eye feline, the other still stubbornly human.

It was so tempting to just sit and watch. But she could always do that later with the videos. She had to be on top of matters now. Such as the fact they were sucking up the intravenous nutrients like sponges. Given the outstanding specimens all the surviving Chimera had become, she suspected the transformation might improve their condition, but this! Rather than correcting the genetic flaws and facing long muscle rehab, their bodies seemed to be pushing toward a healthy strong state. All that seemed to be needed now was to provide sufficient fuel for the process.

It occurred to her they would not have had even close to enough if every subject had made it over the hump. Cranley knew better than to bring that up around Maza, but as she went to a different booth, she had to admit it was convenient. They'd be properly prepared next time.

"Sevarius, what did you make?" she whispered, looking down at the disrespectful woman soldier strapped firmly into the bed.

Her face was already far past human, but Cranley was able to relish the expression. This one kept waking up all the way. The pained whine making its way around the medical gag, and the pleading terrified look in her eyes. Cranley gave a smile.

"Oh, quite whining. Feeing this means you get to live," she chuckled, removing herself and hardly feeling the glare on her back.

"Dr. Cranley, Mr. Xanatos requires you immediately," Owen Burnett's voice came over the intercom.

"What?" she growled, glaring up at the theatre. His look somehow said immediately disregarded even this.

Cursing silently, she named a lesser doctor in charge and went to obey the boss's summons.

 **X X X**

It was supposed to be a short night patrol night, Maggie thought, keeping pace with Goliath with a flap of her wings. A compromise between duty and the desire to make the most of Halloween with them all patrolling early then to meet Elisa for the festival.

Then her ears twitched, and she looked down on a stretch of the industrial area. A billboard confirmed it to be a meat processing plant of some kind. And something was going on.

"Goliath!" Maggie said, breaking off to start circling the building. Goliath followed, only speaking when he caught up.

"What is it?" he asked.

"No idea, my hearing's not that good. So something loud is happening," Maggie told him. They made their way down and alighted on the roof. No sooner had they set down then a roar and crash sounded from the rear of the building. Goliath ran toward it, and with only a moment's hesitation, sprang down from the rooftop. On all fours Maggie kept pace, but looking over the roof, she stopped.

They had found the Manhattan Werewolf.

It was, well, a werewolf. If she and the other Chimera were a more complex mix, this one seemed skewed to the wolf side, and buffed out. It was bigger than Derek Maza!

The fur was mostly red and very thick, save for a blue patch she spotted around one of its eyes. Was that natural or some kind of brand, Maggie wondered, as it went down on all fours to circle with Goliath.

"Can you speak?" Goliath asked, keeping his guard up. The creature answered with a howl, springing at him.

'Fast!' Maggie thought, the beast colliding with Goliath before she realized it. And what was worse, even as Goliath got his stance balanced from the blow he was struggling with it as they grappled. It was strong.

Maggie pounced, teeth bared, without realizing it. With only a weak flap of her wings to slow and direct her fall, she drove her feet onto its shoulders. That staggered it and let Goliath gain an edge, getting the freedom to punch it across the snout. The creature recoiled, but to Maggie's surprise it stayed on its feet, and cocking its head, snarled. She was sure Goliath had not been holding back.

The creature ignored her to bound at Goliath again. Right past her. Goliath was ready, but Maggie grabbed it from behind, wrapping her arms around its belly, and let loose the lightning.

The creature howled in surprise, stopping short of Goliath. Seeing him around the beast's bulk, Maggie saw his look to her and him clasping fists. She let go, leaping to the side as he hit the werewolf with an blow whose sound made her wince.

The werewolf went down, flat on its back. Maggie realized for the first time really it was naked. No, not it, she corrected, padding up to it cautiously on all fours, her. The fur wasn't that concealing, she noted, feeling a blush as she averted her eyes. And noticed the she-wolf was wearing, jewelry?

"Goliath," she said, pointing to the pale blue jewel shrouded in an oval of gold and attached to her neck by a chain and clasp.

"Maggie, be careful," Goliath said, motioning her back as he advanced. He frowned at the jewel, then Maggie perked up, hearing an engine roar. She retreated past Goliath, coming to stand at his side, as Xanatos descended on the dock in a gargoyle-style power armor.

She noticed the armor was torn up. Even some sparks coming out of some of the gashes, and was that an oil stain? The man's head was uncovered and he had a few scratches and his hair was not in its usual tidy state.

That would explain the sound.

"Thank you for slapping her down Goliath, Miss Reed. I'll take it from here," he said. The self-assurance was the same though, Maggie thought!

"Xanatos, I thought you might be involved," Goliath rumbled.

"Is she another one of your victims? Was one kind of mutatant not enough for you!?" Maggie demanded, hissing.

"This was no plan of mine, I assure you. But let's say I do feel some responsibility for it," Xanatos shrugged, turning his back to them and kneeling by the wolf-woman. Maggie channeled electricity into her hands and stepped forward as he grabbed the jewel, and stopped short as electricity burst from it, coursing visibly over the power armor. Xanatos screamed in pain and surprise.

Next thing she knew, Xanatos was knocked aside and the wolf was back on its feet, snarling. Its eyes locked on Maggie, teeth bared. Maggie raised her arms as it sprang at her, only for Goliath to knock her aside, catching its claws in his own grip and twisting to toss it away with its own momentum. Maggie got to her feet as the creature went on all fours, growling at them.

"Please, if Xanatos is your enemy, we are your friends," Goliath pleaded.

"I used to be human!" Maggie shouted to the creature, even as it kept its focus on Goliath, "Please, I know it's terrifying-"

The creature turned and ran off down the alley.

"Wait!" Maggie shouted, running and going down to all fours, going after her.

"Maggie!" Goliath called as she turned down an alley. The sound of shifting metal and an engine turning on brought his attention back to Xanatos, back on his feet.

"Well, this matter just became more complicated," Xantos remarked.

"What have you done now?" Goliath demanded. Xanatos only answered him with a smug smile, before his suit's wings deployed and he rose into the air, leaving a trail of fading light.

 **X X X**

Xanatos drank the water Owen offered with practiced diligence as he listened to the status report on the exo-suit. More than the hydration, it was good to have something to focus on as his mind started to race. The suit had made it back to the castle without issue, bi it seemed that was the best he could expect from it tonight.

"At this point, Plan B can only be considered a failure, sir," Owen concluded as they walked down into the courtyard.

"True, but Plan C is already in motion. Goliath is involved, and even without Reed's emotional investment in 'rescuing' another mutate, the Gargoyles will mobilize to thwart me. I trust they will be sufficient to get the Eye away from her, and then it will just be a matter of swooping in to resolve this unfortunate situation in my favor," Xanatos said confidently.

"Wrong," a familiar voice called from the shadows. Xanatos knew what he was going to see but looked anyway, asGoliath dropped down into sight with Reed.

"I don't suppose you have a Plan D?" Goliath asked.

Xanatos was not shocked Goliath had eavesdropped on him. Goliath was not a fool, and this tactic here was certainly valid. So why hadn't he seen this coming? Goliath had been a move ahead of him, and he had not even considered the possibility.

Sloppy. Disturbing. And no time for that now. With his primary suit too damaged to be repaired in time, he would have no chance of saving Fox alone. Derek was the only fighter he had that could help; the others he could not trust with such stakes. And frankly, Derek was a second-stringer in his mind. He needed the all-star team. And the key player was seconds from leaving, and the clock was ticking.

His mind was in overdrive while he remained outwardly calm. He couldn't coerce Goliath in time. Bribery was useless on a person like him; assuming Goliath would even trust him to follow through. What remained?

The truth. He had to lay his cards honestly and appeal to Goliath's noble nature; a hope that in this matter Goliath could see an enemy as someone deserving his protection.

A ridiculous hope, he'd chuckle it off from someone else. But there was nothing else. Time was running out.

"Goliath, wait!" Xanatos called out. Goliath paused to look back at him, but Reed took two more steps and was clearly annoyed, turning around.

"The creature, it's not a Chimera. The jewel, I'm sure you noticed it, it's the Eye of Odin. I'm now inclined to think its name is more literal than I thought. This transformation was born not of science, but of the Third Race's magic," Xanatos cnofessed.

"Magic or science, I see no reason to step into your game. Clean up your own mess this time," Goliath answered.

"This was not my plan. I had no idea it was even capable of… anything. If I had, I would never have…" Xanatos trailed off.

"Let it slip your grasp? I suppose I can believe that. Or can I?" Goliath seemed to have added a mocking tone. Xanatos realized he was losing this. How does a master manipulator convince someone who has seen the strings that they are not trying to pull them?

"It's Fox," Xanatos admitted.

…

"I gave the Eye to Fox as an engagement present. And now she's dying, Goliath. My scans earlier confirmed it. Whether it's the change itself or the magic energy, her body can't handle it. She will die before sunrise unless I change the equation. I can't save her myself, I need your help."

Goliath scowled in silence, then Reed was putting a hand o the gargoyles arm looking at her leader intently.

"It's a trick. He'd say anything, Goliath. You asked if he had a Plan D, this is it. Right here; just another way of tricking you into getting him what he wants," Reed insisted, grabbing Goliath's arm with both hands. If she was betraying some desperation, Goliath was stone-faced. He brushed her off gently, and turned to face Xanatos. Xanatos took that as permission to keep talking.

"The legends said the Eye granted wisdom and insight; no mention was ever made of such drastic changes. This is… beyond any of my projections. Her strength is comparable to a gargoyle and her stamina… The Chimera would be only inviting confusion, and she tore through my best exo-frame already. This is out of my control."

"…Perhaps the insight you speak of has come to pass. Fox's true nature, so like your own. A predator. And for yourself, a taste of the desperation you have served to others. I will not help you retrieve your treasure," Goliath declared.

"The Eye isn't my concern," Xanatos snapped, before realizing it. That got a reaction from Goliath. But it soon became a humorless smile.

"A fine bluff, Xanatos, but I have come to know you too well. Leave me and mine out of this."

"Happy Halloween," Reed taunted as she followed Goliath up the steps to the wall.

 _Soon_ :

They went down to street level in an alley that had been already decided on as close enough to the main festival, but not too close. Maggie was the first to the ground, moving away to make room for Goliath and the boys.

This was not bad. The alley was dark, even with the nearby glimmer of the street. This was the world she had grown used to. But they all moved toward that openness, that light…

And her feet were stuck to the ground.

If she went out there, everyone would see her. See through her.

No, she just needed to get back to the tower…

Someone was talking to her, but she couldn't quite make it out over her breathing and her wings beating at the air, gaining no traction.

"Maggie!" Brooklyn said, and her eyes snapped open. Her feet were off the ground, and he was holding her down by her left hand. She stilled her wings, and caught herself nimbly on her feet. He let her hand go, and she pressed her face into her palms.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't," was all she managed.

"Well, you don't have to," Elisa spoke up. Maggie peaked through her fingers and watched as Brooklyn stepped aside.

It took her a moment to realize it was Elisa who was standing in the alley. When the detective had said she was going as a Disney Princess, Maggie had thought she was joking.

This radiant woman in a golden gown, though, she realized was the detective. She was so out of place in this filthy alley. Maggie took the offered hand without realizing it and took a step forward, guided by the detective.

"I think you can do this, Maggie, but if you really feel this is too much, you can go back to the tower. You've been through a lot, there's no shame if this is too much too ask."

Maggie knew even if she had made it to a Broadway stage, she'd never have the presence this woman could have. She couldn't describe it even. The pressing terror didn't vanish, but another fear made its touch known.

This woman had lost so much; Maggie had been there when her armor had fallen away. And even now Elisa was a wonderfully normal human… no. An extraordinary human, but let herself be tied to this madness. All by choice.

Maggie had the strange thought that it would be more appropriate for Belle to dress like Elisa Maza.

And for Maggie, the new fear, was she did not want to disappoint this woman. Maggie took the step and Elisa, with a small smile, took the hint and led her out.

Out of the alley and onto the streets of New York City.

 **X X X**

"So then, in short there is nothing you can do?" Xanatos said as Owen assisted him into putting on his backup exo-suit. It was a pre-gargoyle model; excellent by most standards, but his primary had been designed with not only a few more years worth of knowhow, but with the goal of taking Goliath on, mano-a-mano.

It would have to do, the billionaire thought, clenching a fist as a test while Cranley looked over the data from the side of the armory.

"No. Even compared to Sevarius' work, this is insane. Handwaving that meta-morphing and reverting in such a fashion are possible, the fact her body has stood up to it goes beyond what I would expect of a human. With it being possible, I would have expected a human to have reached this terminal point long ago. It's not something I can solve with an injection you could do in the field. Even with a lab and sedated… It's a simple fact that unless you radically alter the variables, the subject will die. To think it could be done with just an energy discharge… Mr. Xanatos, it is imperative that the Eye of Odin be retrieved," she decided. Xanatos pulled on a coat, frowning.

"What about the Chimera?" he asked. Desperation led to desperate tactics.

"Oh, that's actually gone quite well. Approximately 30% are projected to survive. Including the pair of twelve year old twin males. We'll soon have our own lioness too. Imagine if she proves fertile-"

"Will Derek be able to assist me," Xanatos cut in.

"…Inadvisable. The death toll from the procedure has hit him and Klaus rather hard. Frank, however, seems to take the development in predictable stride."

"Never mind, then. It looks like I need to roll the iron dice on this one," Xanatos remarked, pulling out a small device from a coat pocket, revealing a grid map of Manhattan. With a beeping X on it.

 **X X X**

You don't get used to the bizarre, Maggie found. Because when you do, it stops being bizarre, really. But even things once familiar can become bizarre.

Walking down the street into the festival with the clan and Elisa, she could only compare it to the early days in the tower. Which felt so much like a lifetime ago, she felt that if she focused on the date she would get a headache.

As unreal as it felt, walking next to Elisa in the wide open, it wasn't a dream suddenly ending, and there was no jarring scream of terror. Or screams of disbelief. The people looked like… well, people. And wasn't that odd? At what point had she become used to not seeing people who weren't Elisa up close save for tense situations or from hiding?

Hmm, Mr. Robbins, she supposed. Hudson had been back to see the man and passed on an invitation. Given how morbidly fascinating it was to watch a fat man dressed like Mario scratch his behind, Maggie decided she should take up that offer. This couldn't be healthy.

They were getting noticed; she picked up on it with her ears even as she struggled mentally to keep them from twitching or moving. Costumes over costumes, many were impressed, others a bit dumbfounded. The most hostile reactions being grumbles about how it must be nice to be able to afford two costumes, much less ones that cool.

This… this was actually working?

As if that thought was a cue, Maggie realized she was standing alone. Had she missed something said, paying too much attention to the crowd?

The boys had moved off, discussing the booths and concessions. Goliath and Elisa seemed to be considering a dance floor of sorts, which was currently playing a fast track but Maggie guessed would switch over soon, judging by other people waiting in the wings.

She remembered that Goliath could dance. He had learned back in the medieval era, apparently. He had not elaborated; Hudson said it had to do with Demona.

The plan was good, but this was a mistake, for her, Maggie realized, feet glued to the ground. With a groan, she realized she had been about to flex her wings. Stupid, she needed to find an alley first.

She had tried. That would be enough, right?

 **X X X**

Brooklyn had decided to get in line for a hot dog to start with. The line was about as short as he could probably hope, and he wouldn't be surprised if stuff ran out as the night went on. And he may not get a chance to try a real street hot dog like his adopted hometown was famous for before next Halloween.

Glancing back to ask Maggie if she was game for one, he realized she wasn't with him or the others. In fact, she was still standing near the edge by the wooden roadblocks marking the official edge of the festival.

She was shaking, he realized quickly. Oh no, was she having some kind of panic attack? He needed to do something, find out if she was alright. Idiot, of course she's not!

Umm, she was looking at Goliath and Elisa, maybe she wanted to dance? Dance?! She looked ready to bolt.

'Oh just do something, you idiot,' he chided himself, taking a step forward. And then another… okay, what exactly was he going to do, he repeated, stopping for a moment. And then a figure in a trench coat and fedora swept into the scene, casually eating a soft pretzel.

"Hey, Maggie, taking it all in?" the stout gargoyle asked.

"It's a bit much to take in," she managed. Breaking off the end of the pretzel he hadn't taken a bite from, he offered it to Maggie, who took it and chewed slowly.

"Yeah, so just take it in one piece at a time, right? No hurry, no need to swallow it all, just nibbles if you like, right?"

"I guess?" Maggie said.

"Great," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and pointing away.

"How about one of the game booths? That's a baseball throwing one there. How about you show me that Red's country arm, eh?" Broadway asked.

Maggie still looked a bit nervous, but it was nothing compared to earlier. She smiled as she followed Broadway into the festival.

Leaving Brooklyn looking at them go.

 **X X X**

Broadway stood in line for another pretzel stand, debating internally whether or not to go for the mustard. He glanced over to another booth, where Maggie was concentrating on a game of ascend the labyrinth, carefully tugging at the ropes as she maneuvered her ball up the hole-riddled vertical board.

"You seem to be having fun," Brooklyn remarked, coming up to him.

"Hey Brooklyn, Maggie ever mention if she likes pretzels? Cause she devoured the hot dogs earlier. Even I was impressed," Broadway remarked. Brooklyn grumbled something, and Broadway rolled his eyes.

"You know, she seems to have settled down, why not ask her to dance or something while I get the pretzels?" Broadway asked.

"Maybe I will," Brooklyn snapped.

"Good," Broadway retorted.

"Good grief," Lexington muttered off to the side.

Brooklyn approached the only clan member who was not privy to the drama and cleared his throat. She didn't react, biting lightly on her lip slipping the ball through a zig zag path on the board.

"Maggie I -"

"Shhh!" she cut him off as a poorly judged tug brought her ball close to falling. Eyes narrowed, she made an adjustment and pulled slowly, moving the ball to a safer spot.

"Ha," Magie smirked.

Then screams erupted from the building behind the booth, and a window shattered loudly.

*Plop* *Roll* went Maggie's ball as she jerked reflexively at the noise.

People fled out, screaming about a werewolf. Maggie just sighed.

"Of course, why not?" she wondered, listening to the supposedly magical werewolf tear up the impromptu foodcourt that the banner over the door proclaimed.

Goliath rushing toward the door was not a surprise. Elisa in full gowned glory with her gun was a bit more odd.

"What the!?" Maggie yelled at the sight of Xanatos following them, wearing a trench coat.

"Goliath!?" Brooklyn called as the odd trio reached the door.

"Stay back!" Goliath ordered. Xanatos slammed the double door shut behind them, as people continued to stream away. Growling, Maggie put a hand to her face, claws brushing her mask.

"Isn't this exactly what we said we weren't going to do?" Maggie wondered aloud, walking onto the sidewalk.

"Maggie, Goliath said to stay out of of it," Brooklyn said, grabbing her arm. Maggie hesitated, but pulled her arm free.

"I'm going to the window. That's Xanatos in there, and he's probably more dangerous than the wolf, whatever she really is," Maggie retorted.

"What is even going on here?" she wondered, easily hauling herself to look into a window. In time to see Goliath take Elisa aside and Xanatos get struck full force by the creature's tackle.

"Goliath, what changed your mind?" she wondered.

She flinched before Goliath was sent flying through the doors. The mighty gargoyle hit a car hard enough to dent it, stunned for a moment. The beast came out, snarling. It was glowering at the street, it didn't see Maggie next to it.

It had hurt Goliath, and it was ruining the night they had all looked forward to.

Maggie'd later admit attacking it wasn't her best idea.

She went for the neck, the jewel, and grabbing onto its shoulder shocked it with everything she had. It cried out, flailing around, trying to get her as she swung around on its back, still pouring energy into it.

Maggie didn't have hopes for the chokehold; it was so solid she hadn't even knocked it down slamming into it. But it put those claws at a disadvantage, and one hand closed over the jewel as her power ran out.

"RORRRRRR!" Maggie screamed as the eye jolted her. She saw white, feeling hardly anything other than her claws wrapped around a piece of burning power.

Goliath plowing into the creature, knocking it back into building, loosened her grip, stopping the shock. But she stayed around its neck.

Goliath punched it in the gut with a roar, lifting it off its feet.

"Maggie, get clear!" Goliath ordered as the werewolf staggered. She obeyed, even with most of her vision still blurry, planting her feet and springing off its back. She landed ungracefully on a table, skidding over it, a pan of mashed potatoes spilling on her.

Pulling herself up, she saw Goliath slam the werewolf into the wall, actually denting it. Taking hold, he pushed its muzzle up with one hand.

"Now Xanatos!" Goliath roared. The enemy was there as if on cue, wearing revealed power armor. Maggie watched him grab the eye himself, and yank.

He got the same shocking results as she had, but somehow managed to keep pulling even as he screamed in pain. Her ears caught the breaking metal, and then Goliath and Xanatos were both blasted back.

Maggie rushed to Goliath's side, along with Elisa. He sat up, moaning but waving them off as he wiped at his face and looked back to the roaring creature. Maggie followed with her gaze and watched with wide-eyed wonder. The werewolf shrank before her eyes, its muzzle withdrawing into its head as a human face took shape and the fur vanished in seconds, leaving a beautiful, pale, naked woman with orange hair and a blotch of blue around one eye to fall to the ground.

Completely naked, Maggie realized, averting her gaze. Elisa moved quickly, taking off the golden skirt of her dress, revealing the holster on her leg doing it, and covered the woman like a blanket with it.

Maggie walked over as Goliath got up, looking down at the woman. This woman, Fox… her humanity had been lost, and now it was restored. Just like that.

Elisa gave a nod to Goliath, Maggie numbly following her gaze.

"She's alive," Goliath told Xanatos, who walked over holding the Eye. Overhead, they heard the sound of a helicopter.

"That would be Owen with our ride," Xanatos told them.

"First give me the Eye," Goliath commanded, holding out his hand. Xanatos looked to Fox, with Maggie and Elisa between him and her, and then to the Eye.

"A trade?" Xanatos asked. Goliath scowled.

"Let's just say I don't trust you with it," Goliath answered. Xanatos actually smiled at the words and handled over the Eye, Goliath closing his fingers over it.

"Now you know my weakness," Xanatos said. Maggie moved aside, opening the way to Fox, with Elisa also getting up. Goliath gave Xanatos a look, Maggie was not sure what it was, before answering.

"Only you would think of love as weakness," Goliath said, leaving his enemy to join Maggie and Elisa.

"Goliath, everything alright?" Broadway asked as the trio entered through the destroyed door.

"Yes, it's all over now. Let's go home," Goliath said. They turned to go, Maggie going down on all fours, wobbling a bit even there, and paused, the ground tilting.

"I think I used too much zap," she admitted, as the others looked back. Goliath didn't say a word about her jumping in, even if she hadn't quite disobeyed his order. He just picked her up, and she was asleep in his arms before anyone was gliding.

 **X X X**

Xanatos felt a bit of his anxiety of the night unknot as the helicopter set down on the landing pad. He was the first out, ignoring the wind generated by the landing with practiced ease. The medical doctors were more hesitant, wanting to wait, to not expose Fox to any harshness that could be avoided.

As expected, there should be no need to rush. He had checked her vitals himself, using the capabilities of his power armor; stable as could be expected. But he could not deny he took a certain… offense at the delay in getting her into the medical suite.

It wasn't like him. This, this was a weakness.

He had admitted that fact to Goliath earlier, though he supposed he had realized it on some level. He did not like the idea of self-deception; if anyone could pull the wool over David Xanatos' eyes, it would be himself.

His decisively unromantic proposal he had presented as honest, but had Fox not been teasing but hinting at a connection she was seeing clearer than him? For all the simple, verifiable reasons he had given and she agreed too… He had given up the Eye of Odin for her. With the Grimorum taken by Goliath's clan, the Eye was to be his next great project to understanding arcane power. When he had gifted it to Fox, he had done so confident he could regain it easily enough if need be.

And this whole affair showed just what power it had. A full transformation, easily equal to Anton's work, but capable of reversion as well. And that was just from her wearing it. He could believe it was truly a shard of the Aesir All-Father's power. A power that could potentially be harnessed, making the Legacy Project potentially obsolete.

So many possibilities. But he had never questioned that it was worth it for Fox back. Even knowing the risk of Goliath hitting them while they were down was relatively small.

Control, that was the essence of power; to be the one affecting, and better yet guiding, the outcome. But tonight he had lost it, to circumstances and to Goliath's calm demand.

It made him… impatient.

"It seems they have things well in order," Cranley remarked, stepping up to him as Fox was finally rolled away on a gurney.

"So it seems," he said, walking after with the scientist following suit.

You were unable to retrieve the Eye?" she asked.

"Yes," Xanatos answered simply.

"That is, most unfortunate.

"I take it you called me here for the latest update on Project Thailog? We have less than twenty hours-"

"No, I called you here for another matter. I want you to take test samples from Fox. The Eye may be done with her, but there may be lingering damage. If her genetics have been compromised in some way, the sooner we discover it, the sooner it can be treated. Consider this your number 1 priority for now," he ordered.

"You can't be serious," Cranley answered. Xanatos stopped and glanced at her as she halted after a moment.

"Is there a problem, Doctor?" he asked.

"Yes, the Thailog project is at a crucial juncture, and I should be there monitoring it personally, as I have been not been able due to you rushing the Legacy Project, in preparation for this key moment," she told him.

"I have full confidence in your staff," Xanatos answered plainly.

"Even if I took samples from Miss Fox immediately, there would still be a time delay as we waited for the results to be clear. If you must have her attended to quickly, send one of my staff to it."

"Dr. Cranley, I want the best I have on Fox's case," he said, eyes narrowing slightly.

"As your best, I should be looking after one of your most important projects, not fawning over your future ex-wife like some hack family doctor," she snapped.

Xanatos gave her a look; she resisted an urge to step back. Then he smiled, and she returned the expression with relief.

"You're right, what was I thinking? You really should monitor Thailog's emergence closely. There are others better qualified to attend to Fox, it occurs to me."

"Yes, you have had a long night sir, one doesn't always see things clearly with such stress," she said, pulling off her glasses and cleaning some spot off them.

"Oh, I'm seeing clearer at the moment, don't worry. Now run along," he said with an affectionate wave.

The smile vanished as she entered the castle.

"Owen," he said. The bespectacled man came forward from where he had been awaiting.

"Mr. Xanatos," he said in his usual tone.

"We have been considering options to replace Cranley if she continues to fail to sufficiently fill Anton's shoes. Increase those efforts," Xanatos ordered.

 **X X X**

Goliath placed the Eye on a table in the same sectioned-off area of the tower where they had placed Coldstone's body.

"First the Grimorum, now the eye of the King of the Aesir. It's quite a collection we are are building," Hudson commented.

"They were too dangerous to leave in Xanatos' hands," Goliath answered simply.

"Aye, the Grimoroum is only as good or ill as the one who wields it, but the Eye… that may be something mortals are simply not meant to meddle with. I worry this will bring us trouble, lad. Great magic either gets lost or hoarded by the mighty because otherwise it brings a storm when people seek it."

"There's always a storm coming," Goliath remarked grimly. They closed the door behind them, not seeing the Eye glow as a handful of sparks played out across it. Much less notice Maggie groan at the same time, tossing a bit in her bedding.

 _November 1st:_

The machines beeped and the screens glowed, displaying the readouts, somewhere a printer was continuously working. The lab was a flurry of activity as the small staff scurried about, tending to it all.

Dr. Cranley, by contrast, was perched on a rolling chair, skidding between three close stations based around the central jewel of the lab, where a massive winged figure stood suspended in fluid. Twirling a pen in one hand, eyes showing bloodshot danced behind glasses, taking the data in and answering with a few keystrokes. With a kick, she was off to the next station, a white coat having to stop hard to avoid ramming into her. She frowned at the next screen, biting her lip, but finally nodded, punching two keys and getting a green icon.

As the sound of jingling metal, the doctor looked up and saw a massive hospital-style gurney rolled in. It didn't have straps, she noted with a bit of amusement; instead, heavy-looking chains were piled on top of it.

Surveying the room, she got out of the chair, joints popping and actually feeling a bit relieved by it. Trying to pop her back, she palmed a pill from her pocket and swallowed it dry. Though she knew it would not kick in immediately, she felt better straight off.

He was fully grown, their subject an off-color twin of the original. Or rather a copy. And that unconscious mind was not some cognitively sterile blank slate. Data, programming, already hummed through that brain, ready to begin processing as the chemical reactions jumpstarted. It was a brave new frontier, a glorious new era for life she was ushering in. A superior being designed to serve its makers' designs.

And its name, was Thailog.

"All systems ready?" she asked.

The affirmatives came in and she smiled wide, pulling a keycard from her pants pocket. Sliding it into a slot on the main terminal, a green button lit up. Without hesitation, she pushed the button, and bubbles started to surge through the tank as the composition shifted.

The stirring of the subject was unremarkable at first. But as she watched, it became clear he was not just moving with the current, but twitching, moving against it. Of course, the projections showed that even if he fully awoke now, the sensory overload would knock him out quickly. They'd have to haul it out of the tank, and when it was able to fully awake, they would have to patiently teach it to talk and walk, and-

Red eyes snapped open, and a clawed foot planted itself against the tank edge as the eyes darted around. Thailog slammed itself against the tank shoulder first. The tank cracked and the oxygen mask slipped free, revealing a snarling mouth.

"Doctor, the readings are spiking. He's fully awake! He's angry!" the assistants said, panicking. The subject slammed into the wall again, cracking it further and letting fluid start to leak out in arcs.

Guards ran up beside her.

"Holster! It's worth more than you!" she commanded, throwing out an arm.

They retreated. She watched, wide-eyed and grinning, as Thaliog braced firmly and twisted its shoulders to the opposite end of the tank and feet against the damaged segment. The tank exploded outward under his pressure, showering Cranley with fluid and shrapnel nicking her face.

Pushing her glasses back up, she took a measured step back to watch as Thailog struggled, coughing and trying to stand in the ruin of the manmade womb he had ravaged. Slowly, achingly, he managed to rise enough to grasp the crumbling edges, which buckled under his weight as his claws dug into them. Soaking wet and beyond his limit, it still seemed to her there was a calm wonder in his eyes, before they rolled up and Thailog fell forward into the wider world.

The terminal buckled and broke at his mass hitting it, already ruined by the fluid she imagined, and he mostly slid off it unto the floor. Right to her feet.

Breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, Cranley knelt and brushed white hair away to look at him with awe.

"Thailog, we're going to do so much together," she whispered with excited tenderness.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _Yet again a chapter that took too long. But at least certain matter are now in play, the new Chimera, and big bad Thailog himself. I have plans for all of them, oh yes. Now just to reach them, but one step closer eh?_

 _The Silver Falcon ended up getting offscreened. I considered some Goliath Elisa scenes; but didn't see them diverging enough or adding enough. Though I worry a bit this chapter was too dependent on knowing original episode._

 _Whatever the case I hope you like it and hope to get more chapter for my stories out as the Holiday season unfolds._

 _Long Days and pleasant nights to you all._


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